Of Humans and Quarians
by Ganja Naraku
Summary: Impractical? Maybe. Impossible? Not by a long shot.
1. Just like old times

**I'm not even going to bother warning you about spoilers.**

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Tali'Zorah vas Neema wanted to kill something. Anyone who knew even the most superficial facts about Tali'Zorah would tell you this was unusual for her. She was not one who took to violence with ease. But something about this entire situation and the utter incompetence of the men she was being forced to deal with set her blood boiling.

Shepard must have rubbed off on her more than she'd thought…

She had _told_ Prazza to take them down out of range of the colony's defenses so not to scare Veetor, but as usual he had ignored her and now they were stuck in this abandoned home trying to figure out a route to get to him that didn't involved blasting their way through a small army of mechs. Not only that but a Cerberus shuttle had landed not far from the main docking area and he wanted to fight them before getting Veetor.

"Prazza _we_ are here for Veetor, not to start a fight with Cerberus! If you have a problem with that, wait on the god damn ship!" She got up in Prazza's face, an intimidation tactic she'd often observed Shepard use. "_I'm_ leading this mission not you, your job is to find us a way to Veetor and keep us safe. _If_ Cerberus comes _I_ will deal with them. Is that clear?"

Prazza held his ground and she could see his glare behind the visor, his fist clenched and he sighed. "Yes Ma'am." He turned away from her and returned to his team.

She shook her head and left the trio of solders to look out at the stars through a window. _Idiots._ Keelah, why was she _always_ surrounded by idiots nowadays? She wouldn't have had to put up with bosh'tets like them on _his_ crew. A small sigh escaped her and she crossed her arms. She really missed those days. Traveling about the galaxy on a state of the art vessel, the long pleasant talks she'd had with the crew…But most of all she missed the man who'd made it possible.

Commander Dante Shepard. He was unlike anyone she'd ever encountered before or since. He didn't make judgments about people based on general reputation. He treated people equally; Race, sex, politics, none of that had ever mattered to him, or factored into his choices. If you were a good person, he would treat you as such. In the same manner, if you hurt innocent people he could be nothing short of a mortal terror.

Mortal. She heaved another sigh. In the end that was what he was, despite his combat ability, despite all that he was capable of doing, he'd been only human. And like every human he was capable of dieing…She jerked at the memory; she could still see his form as he was punched from the Normandy's exploding hull. She could only watch in horror as his suit was breached and the life giving air rushed to escape his flailing body. He didn't deserve to die like that; he had deserved a full life with someone he loved.

And who loved him like she did.

It had been a fool's wish from the beginning. He could have never seen what lay beyond her mask, and even if he had the complete impractability of the entire relationship would make sure that it didn't last. Still, what harm was it to dwell on impossible dreams? She turned from the window and pressed her back to it. Her mind began recalling moments they'd spent as a question formed in her mind. When? What was the exact moment things changed between them? When was it that she began to see him as more than a kind and generous man and as someone she loved?

Was it in that first meeting in the alleyway when he'd saved her life? The turian assassin had the pistol on her head and was in the middle of what he must have thought was very clever banter when a rifle fired a round clean through his skull. She had turned instinctively to stare and saw him; Adorned in dark grey Alliance armor with a single crimson line on his right arm, wearing no protective helmet. His eye, a single long scar running down it, was in the scope of the sniper in his hands, another round unloaded into the turian's chest knocking his down.

On his right was a krogan, scars running down the side of his face. He was charging at the twin salarians who had flanked the turian, a mighty bellow erupting from his powerful lungs. His shotgun released a burst of shrapnel, shredding one salarian's armor like a meat grinder. Before the other had a chance to return fire he had bouldered over him like a landslide on a small village, laughing as he did it. And further back behind the human, scoping out the area for other hostiles was another turian, his armor revealing him to be a member of C-sec. In seconds the battle was over, in seconds he'd left nothing but a pile of bodies in his wake.

"Fist set me up!" She had shouted, explaining herself as he came up to her. To this day she didn't understand why she had felt the need to explain herself to him. She didn't know him yet, much less answer to him. "I knew I couldn't trust him!"

"Were you hurt in the fight?" She'd stared at him in surprise. He'd been the first, beyond the human doctor to ask her if she was okay. She met his eyes, bloody crimson and yet not unkind. Was that the moment? When he was more concerned with her well-being than in the data he knew she held. Such kindness wasn't uncommon for him, she came to discover. He'd continued to show her such in the way he treated her aboard the Normandy. He'd known only the most abstract things about her; her name, the mission she was on, and yet he'd trusted her enough to not only allow her on his ship but to give her complete and unrestricted access to it.

Was it when he gave her that data? Even though they disagreed morally on the history between her people and the geth, he'd given her the data asking nothing in return but her friendship, not even to try and find a peaceful way to deal with the geth. Keelah, what she would have given to have been able to say goodbye…To let him know the way she felt…

She jumped at the hiss and sound of the door opening. She glanced back and saw the silhouettes of three humans entering the room about ready to meet Prazza's men head on in a firefight. "Stop right there!" The overeager idiot shouted, not even taking into account that fact that the middle one was carrying what looked like a grenade launcher in his hands.

"Prazza wait!" She moved between the two parties hoping that neither side would be stupid enough to try and shoot the other. "You said you'd let _me_ handle this!" She turned her head to size up the three humans. The one furthest to the right was a young woman in a Cerberus uniform; she looked more like a scientist than a soldier. Her stance, upright and not bothering to lower her center of gravity, only strengthened this assumption. Tali could feel the subtle shift in the air signaling a biotic. This same shift was present in the dark skinned man who flanked their leader on the left. He was armed with a shotgun and was wearing black Cerberus commando armor. The leader himself…

No…

"Shepard?!" She couldn't have kept the shock from her voice if she tried. She'd watched him die aboard the Normandy, how in-

"I'm not taking any chances with Cerberus Operatives!" Prazza argued, shifting his position to get a clear shot at Shepard. He didn't move himself and stared at her allowing the black man to aim his weapon at the quarian.

"Put those weapons down!" She shouted turning back to glare at the idiot. He held her gaze for a moment before loosening his grip on the assault rifle in his hands. She turned back once more staring at him, the scar over his eye was gone and was replaced but a new set of nasty red scars on the left side of his face. His crimson eyes were the exact same as she remembered and brightened in recognition as he lowered his own weapon. "Shepard…Is that-You're alive?" No, it couldn't be him. The Dante Shepard she knew would never work with Cerberus. Not after all the evil he'd witnessed from them years ago. Whoever this was it couldn't possibly be-

"Remember when I gave you that geth data Tali?" He grinned the same way he had when he'd given her that data; that mischievous little smirk of his that warned people when he was about to do something crazy. "Did it help you complete your pilgrimage?"

Keelah…

"Yes…It did." She felt numb. How in-None of this made sense. She'd seen his suit breach and watched as he suffocated from her escape pod. She remembered the sick feeling in her stomach, the tears running down her face. She'd had nightmares of that moment for days… How was it that he was standing before her? His once crimson eyes were now an enrapturing hazel, the way he held his weapon out of combat, over his shoulder like some sort of blade. All of it was just as she remembered…

Somehow in that moment she got the innate sense that she was about to be dragged along on yet another galaxy saving mission. The thought put a smile on her face.

_Just like old times…_

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**This series will be a bunch of Tali/Shepard one-shots in no particular order and of various length and content. If you have time to read this than you can make time to review, those who don't are full of much fail. I'll allow the scenes found here to be used by other authors if you wish so long as you give me my credit due in the chapter in question.**

**Thank you for your readership,**

**GN**


	2. It's Fun Watching You Shout

**Many failed last chapter. I'm keeping a running list just so you're aware.**

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"Does Captain Shepard have any new evidence to submit to this hearing?" Admiral Raan asked of him. Tali turned trying to gauge his expression, and she found it impossible behind his mask. Keelah, the irony would have been hilarious had she not been so nervous. He moved past her, his choice made; she prayed he wouldn't do it, that he wouldn't defile her father's name just to protect her. He opened his omni-tool and she felt a dread growing on her. _No. Please, please no._

He lowered the tool and pointed at the admirals, his voice several octaves louder so the entire room could hear him. "Tali's accomplishments are the only evidence you should need!" He turned and moved past her. "C'mon Tali, we're leaving." She blinked in surprise unable to understand just what he was playing at, if they left now all that would happen was she would be exiled in absentia. This made no sense. If he wanted to he could just have said they had no evidence. Why make a scene of it?

She had only just turned to follow him when the admirals flew into an uproar. "This is a formal proceeding!" Koris bellowed, smacking his hand on the railing.

Shepard turned on his heel so quick she almost bumped into him he was back on the podium his finger stabbing in accusation at Koris. His voice was absolute venom as he returned fire. "No it's not! This trial is nothing but a god damn sham! Not one of you cares about Tali!" The admirals looked as stunned as she was. She had always known Shepard to have something of a temper when he was riled up, but sudden outbursts were not common for him. Maybe he'd been far more furious with them than he'd let on.

"Zaal'Koris is a coward who wants people to sympathize with the geth and settle new worlds. He would force his people to try and adjust to a new world; a task that could take upwards of six hundred years when reclaiming the homeworld would take about sixty." Tali stared at him; he'd remembered the figures she'd given him on the Alarei. "Han'Gerrel is a warmonger and wants to go to war with the geth and retake the homeworld, something that could result in nothing but the destruction of the entire Migrant Fleet!"

He then looked directly at Admiral Xen and pointed at her. "And that crazy bitch doesn't care if this trial goes one way or the other, her only interest is the geth involvement. She wants to capture and experiment with AI, possibly damning the entire quarian people again in the process!" Tali cringed as each of the admirals sent a pointed glare at Shepard who was no doubt smirking behind his mask. Now they seemed angrier with Shepard's insults than shocked at his bluntness. He took a deep breath and she thought, hoped, for a moment that he was finished.

They should have been so lucky…

Shepard placed his hands behind his back and walked out onto the main floor. "Tali's expertise was invaluable in helping me destroy Saren and his geth army at the Citadel. She not only saved all of you from the Reapers, but showed the entire galaxy the value of the quarian people!" He glared up at them as he reentered the podium. His voice was its normal volume now, but lost none of its dangerous tone. "And after all of that, after everything she has done for her people, you would honestly _consider_ exiling her? Its bullshit, more than that it's insulting to both Tali and to this entire fleet."

He turned away from them and again made to leave. When he spoke there was a disturbing cheerfulness to his. "If you _really_ think anything Tali may or may not have done is even _remotely_ close to the damage it appears you three are considering exposing your fleet to, by all means exile Tali'Zorah. Be my guest. But don't you _dare_ try to discount everything she has done and will do for this fleet."

And he walked away; the gathered crowd gave him a wide berth until he reached the door and stepped through, Jack following not far behind. All she could do was stare after him, her jaw slack as he left the room. She turned to look at the admirals who continued to stare after him, even Aunt Raan looked shaken. A grave silence filled the chamber as the sound of the door closing behind him echoed through the ship. At last Raan got a hold of herself and spoke, her voice shaking just a bit. "Are-Are the admirals prepared to render judgment in this matter?"

Xen was the first to react; Tali watched her call up her omni-tool and enter in her verdict. Gerrel did the same. Krios met her eyes for a moment and at last entered the final verdict. Raan's console chimed as a small message appeared on it. "Tali'Zorah. In light of your history of service to the advancement of the quarian people; we do not find sufficient evidence to convict."

Her eyes widened, unbelieving and her aunt's words were lost on her. He'd done it. _Keelah_…

xxx

"You know there's no way that worked." Jack smirked almost as soon as they were out the door.

Shepard was grinning behind his mask; you could hear it in his voice. "Just wait, you'll see."

Jack sneered. "Two hundred creds says it didn't work."

"I don't make stupid bets Jack." He smirked at her behind his helmet. "You're on"

xxx

He was waiting just outside the door, leaning on a wall with his arms crossed. Jack was right beside him and was the first to react to her. "Well, how did it go?" She seemed rather eager about it, which was odd considering the kind of person Jack was.

"I…was acquitted of all charges." She was just as stunned as she'd been in that room. He'd pulled it off. By some miracle he'd pulled off what she thought was impossible. Jack swore loudly as Shepard laughed holding out his hand. The biotic psychopath growled and muttered something incomprehensible as she shoved the debt into his hand before storming off for the ship.

Shepard continued to laugh and shook his head, kicking off the wall to stand beside her. "I can't believe you pulled that off…The things you said." She looked back at the plaza. "It's been a long time since someone shouted down the Admiralty Board…" She looked at the quarians gathered, all of them talking about the events of the trial, several were shooting looks at them of what she could only guess was admiration. "I think it was good for them."

He chuckled. "You know we could always go back in and get you exiled if you'd like."

A smile grew on her face and she laughed imagining him giving another speech on how they should exile her. The thought was ridiculous but somehow she knew he'd pull it off if she asked. She'd come to realize he was rather good at doing the impossible. "Thanks but I'm fine with this, besides," She winked at him. "Its fun watching you shout."

He patted her on her shoulder and walked past her. "C'mon Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, we've got a galaxy to save and an after-party to attend."

She watched him leave and smiled again. "Thank you…Captian."

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**I thought it would have been more interesting to be able to continue bitching at the admirals. Draw it out some you know?**


	3. Pure and Unconditional

**I really wish I would have come up with this as the first chapter.**

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The figure atop him shifted, her uncovered face nuzzling into his neck as she slept. He smiled and ran his fingers light along her back to incite a very content sounding sigh from her lips. She murmured something in quarian that his translator failed to pick up but remained asleep; obviously too exhausted by their exertion only moments before to try and wake up. On the off chance she was conscious, she seemed far too comfortable to want to move as the only thing she did was cuddle closer to him; her cool skin soaking up his warmth like a sponge.

He'd been pleasantly surprised when he'd first touched her bare skin; while it was somewhat colder than a human's, it was not at all unpleasant. The closest analogy he could make to the sensation was the feeling you get when you first dive into a swimming pool; it was cold enough to surprise you at first but your body grew used to it quickly enough. The only thing that made this analogy not quite accurate was that her body seemed able to absorb his heat quite well, as evident by the small puffs of steam rising from her mouth with every breath.

He watched her face, exotic and beautiful, as she slept. She looked nothing short of divine as she lay sandwiched between both his body and the sheets over top them. She had an arm around his neck and her head was tucked in just below his jaw. The hand that was connected to that arm's twin rested in his, its triple digits laced with his own. He'd pushed his fingers together to help it fit comfortably, his index pressed against his middle finger, and his ring pressed up against the little one giving his hand the appearance of a lopsided "W".

He'd allowed her to take the lead at first, giving her the small comfort of control to help assuage her fears. He'd allowed her to set the pace of things, and was rather surprised by her need to almost jump him as soon as her mask came off. He wasn't complaining, as it turned out she was quite an enthusiastic lover. By the time round two rolled around and he started taking a bit more dominance in their lovemaking, she was fighting tooth and nail to keep her control. It was rather fun actually; He had upper body strength, experience, and reach; She had natural agility, a very inventive mind and flexibility.

It made for one hell of a night. She'd mount him and start grinding and he'd sit up and flip her back to the mattress. While he was repositioning his legs so they didn't snap off, she's pull this backwards roll to her hands and feet and pounced on him again like a cat. Once or twice he was able to catch her mid-jump and flip them both down with himself on top, but she'd just lift herself up, wrap her legs tight around his waist and start grinding, preventing him from thrusting. The only thing he could do to counter this was roll over onto his back forcing her to release her hold and straddle him again, putting him right back where he was at start.

Plus she fought dirty when she was losing. He'd actually got her pinned down and unable to escape once. "Pinned ya!" He'd laughed at the time. One hand had been holding both her wrists over her head and the other arm was working as a bar at her waist blocking her from grinding her hips; He closed his eyes for a moment to take a breath when she let out this sudden yelp of pain.

He'd jumped and loosened his grip, frightened he might have accidentally hurt her and before he knew what was happening she had him pinned in a similar fashion. She was straddling his abs and using her strong legs to bind his wrists at his sides. Her arms were crossed over her breast and she gave him this gorgeous, seductively smug smile as she leaned down to gloat. "I've got _you_." All he could do was laugh as he conceded defeat for the moment and kissed her.

The memory elicited a soft chuckle from him. She shifted again under his gaze and the twin diamonds that were her eyes opened a little. She peered up at him with a questioning look in her eyes, as if to ask him his reason for waking her. The only response she got to this silence question was another rueful chuckle and a small kiss on her forehead. A smile crossed her face as she moved closer, releasing his hand and wrapping her other arm around his neck. Using it as a base she pulled herself up so she lay directly over him, their noses brushing and their eyes never leaving each other. He smiled up at her and leaned forward reclaiming her lips as he had moments before. She was eager to return the sentiment, and began to grind her hips into him again as his hand cupped the back her head. It wasn't long after that they were lost in yet another round of passionate love making.

No words were spoken, they were not needed. At this time and in this place, there were no Collectors looking to kill them. There were no Reapers seeking to harvest all life in the galaxy. Right now, there was only the Quarian and the Human. Right now, there was no weak immune system, there was no suicide mission of which they may never return. At this point of time and space, there was only love. Pure and unconditional.

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**Heads up: The next chapter might be a trio of smaller one-shots that don't constitute full chapters by themselves. Thank you to the reviewers.**

**_GN_**


	4. The Laser or The Bomb

**Change of plans, another one-shot.**

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If someone ever tells you that you never hear the shot that kills you, punch them in the fucking throat and call them a liar.

I heard the shot with perfect clarity, it was deafening, all encompassing. I can count the milliseconds in my mind between the round's release and its impact with her head. I can see her eyes, twin diamonds that graced her face as she is flung back, the hole in her visor cracking and shattering it as she falls. I see the pain in them as they roll back in her head and she passes from this world.

From there, all I knew was pain.

For a long time I thought I knew pain. It was not new to me. Mindoir was pain; I'd lost everything I'd ever known, my family, my friends, the girl on the next farm over who I had a crush on and was going to ask out the day of the attack. I lost everything, and I used the loss to fuel my hatred. Hatred gave me focus, hatred allowed me to slaughter the bastards on Torfan. Hatred allowed me to be merciless, to throw my men away in the name of my revenge.

But this… The pure, blazing white agony that tore at my soul as I watched her blood, tainted with useless antibiotics, pool around her head. It almost destroyed me… Then, like an old friend putting a hand on my shoulder, my hatred festered. It consumed my pain, fueled my rage. Hatred gave me focus, steadied my hands as I laid her head down and closed the eyes that would never look upon her people, her friends, on me, again.

Someone asked if I was ok. My response was short as I stood. "Almost." I answered as my hand gripped my weapon and fired a single round into a salarian's head. Mordin Solus crumpled in a heap, his black eyes wide with shock and confusion. His inability to protect her and lead the fire squad cost her her life. Just as Garrus did, I made certain to collect.

I heard faint gasps and saw various looks of shock; my hatred allowed me to ignore them. Even Jack, jaded to the galaxy as she was, was looking at me in horror. Miranda demanded an explanation; I owed her and gave her nothing. My pistol returned to my side and I moved away from them, ordering us to move along. They stared after me but I did not repeat myself and in time they followed.

We discussed the next portion of the assault. Two teams would make their way to the center area; Miranda would lead the main fire squad as Jack erected a barrier and allowed Grunt and I to make our way through the swarms to open the gate. He came gladly, like a child to a playground. Jack seemed disturbed at my demeanor. Cold, distant, a far cry from the Shepard she'd come to know.

None of them understood that Commander Dante Shepard no longer existed. All that existed was the ghost of his hatred, the fire of his rage. The three of us moved through the passage, taking down all in our path. Once or twice I stepped from the barrier, feeling the sting of the swarms as I fired a round into the skull of Harbinger. The pain kept me sharp, the satisfaction of the kill driving me further. It wasn't long before we reached the end, the swarms retreated and Jack rushed to the console to open the door for the fire team.

She made it halfway before my bullet ended her violent life.

Over the radio I hear my team shouting for me to open the doors, I ignore them. She will never live to see the quarians and the geth settle their differences, she will never look upon a sunset with an uncovered face. What right have they to leave when she cannot? I gave the sentiment to Grunt when he asked me my reasons for leaving them to die. He did not question it, nor did he move against me. Perhaps his krogan nature understood my rage; perhaps he respected me too much as his Battlemaster to disobey even if he disagreed. In the end it mattered not. He followed me into the final battle with glee, expecting a great and honorable death alongside his battlemaster.

He never expected the rocket that sent him crashing into the depths of the base.

I watched him fall, and at last remove my helmet, dropping it down to the ground as I turned from the side. Tears stained my face as I moved and sat beside the console, planting the bomb that will destroy every goddamn Collector on this ship. I lay down my weapons, all but my pistol. I can hear the clicking of the timer as the bomb draws ever closer to destroying everything. The Illusive Man's orders to save the base fall on deaf ears, he no longer mattered. My squad was dead; it no longer mattered. The Reapers, The Council, The Alliance, Cerberus, none of them matter anymore.

My hatred weakened, my rage subsided and at last I felt grief.

I close my eyes and remember our last moments. The feel of her skin as she basks in the afterglow of their climax; the tingle of her kiss on my lips; I remember her laughter, her wit, her charm. I remember the woman I fell in love with, who I failed to protect. My eyes open again as the entire area rocks and shakes, I glance up into the monstrous yellow eyes of the human reaper I thought I destroyed.

And I laughed.

I laughed and laughed and laughed at it. Its great maw opened wide as I stood up again. I drop my pistol and spread my arms wide in challenge. The crimson laser charges, growing in its mouth as it takes aim. And just as it fires I hear a single loud tone as the bomb reaches the end of its timer.

I know not which killed my body. The Laser or the Bomb, but I do know that neither of them killed me. The attack that killed me never struck my person. It struck the bravest, brightest young woman I had ever had the pleasure of loving.

Long before my body was sent to oblivion for the second time, my heart had already made the trip.

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**To semi-quote Sovereign: You read this because I allow it, and you will review because I demand it.**


	5. The Power of a Single Spark

**I have no witty opening for this.**

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It never ceased to amaze her, the amount of power a single persistent spark could hold.

A single shot is all it took to create the spark. It was small, easy to dismiss, but it remained with her bouncing about and looking for kindling.

The spark at last hit some kindling when she looked to see who had fired the round. A human clad in black, his eyes blood crimson. In his hands rested a powerful sniper rifle which fired another perfect, well aimed shot into the turian assassin's head. When the battle was finished he asked if she was ok, but she was too angry over her betrayal and the near loss of her life to acknowledge it and the spark once again faded away.

He invited her on his ship with a smile on his face and soon their adventures began. All the while more sparks impacted the kindling, once or twice an ember flashed to life and she crushed it under her heel. They weren't even the same species! All this was, if it was anything, was a friendship and a respect for a good man. It was only when he gave her data that could be crucial to her people's retaking of the homeworld did a flame at last erupt within her.

It was idiotic; more than that it was unbearably selfish. She tried in vain to douse the flame, to force it from her mind and heart. But it became impossible, the flame was as resilient as the spark that birthed it. It rebuked her attempts with fervor. She hated and adored the flame, its heat an addicting vice. But her will was strong and she refused to act on such selfish impulses. She contented herself to watch from afar, even as it killed her inside.

She watched the way he spoke with Ashley, the small smile on his face that her company brought him. Sometimes, as she lay on her cot she envisioned it was her standing in Ashley's place, seeing that loving smile first hand. The thoughts are ridiculous and when they creep into her mind and into her dreams she rebuked them as she did the flame. She contented herself to know that someone was making him happy, even if it was not her.

The sight of his love for someone else did not douse the flame, however, it continued to burn just as bright.

Only in her life pod, watching as he was punched from the Normandy's exploding hull, did the flame waiver. She could only watch as his air was ripped from him by the vacuum of space. She could only imagine the agony he must have gone through…The flame died as he stopped struggling at last, yet its phantom heat remained, a constant reminder of a love she had never been able to express.

The flame died with the man, but its ghost haunted her…

Two years came and went and the flame was almost forgotten. Other, foreign sparks arose in its place, but none could take root within her heart. She grew up, changed, matured; she came to accept the loss she suffered that horrible day. She tried to live a full life; it was the best way to honor his memory. And yet despite this acceptance she could not bring herself to forget the once strong flame; it was but a memory now, its heat long faded into the darkness.

And then, like the human myth of a phoenix rising up from its ashes, the flame rekindled as she met a pair of now hazel eyes. His scar was gone, replaced by others; the line of black hair on his chin now rested just on his lower lip. But his smile was the same, wild and almost unpredictable. His eyes still retained their enrapturing fire as he allowed her to take Veetor to safety.

She apologized again before stepping aboard her ship. She wanted nothing more than to be with him, to see and understand how he had risen from the grave. He waved her apology off, that same crazy grin on his face, and wishes her well in whatever her mission may be.

The flame only grew in its intensity when he came for her on Haestrom, risking his life yet again to save her own. Kal'Reegar was not a man who was easy to impress, but in hearing his description of Shepard's tactical artistry and his ability to destroy the Geth Colossus told volumes of the respect he'd gained from the veteran soldier. She was not surprised. Shepard seemed to have quite a knack for doing what others said was impossible.

The flame engulfed her completely as she watched him rail at the admirals, calling them out for what they were. Everyone looked so shocked that a human would use such a tone with the Admiralty Board. But she knew all too well his disdain for useless politics. It always struck her as odd, because with the way he was capable of speaking he could rally just about anyone to his cause.

He was unlike anyone she'd ever met…And she decided, at last, to give in to the flame, or perhaps it wasn't her choice and the fever compromised her judgment. In the end what did it matter? She all but admitted her feelings to him and could only watch as he smiled and returned them. Later when she was able to think strait she scolded herself, she was being selfish. More than that she was risking everything in trying to pursue a relationship with him; if his judgment was clouded by his affection for her…She didn't want anyone's death on her conscience.

When they next spoke she tried to take back her words, she tried to explain how it could never work, how if they followed this through someone could get hurt, maybe even killed. Yet her attempts to ward him off from loving her fell on deaf ears. When he took her hands in his and stared into her eyes, she knew she couldn't tell him no. Damn the consequences, if this was indeed to be the suicide mission everyone claimed it to be, then she would not make the same mistake she made two years ago. He would see what lay beyond the veil of her mask. She would find a way, no matter the risks.

And she did a find a way, the herbal supplements tasted abysmal and the immuno-boosters left her more than a little out of it, but she found a way none the less. He was looking over some files on his desk when she entered the room; it was unusual to see him so inattentive, He'd seemed genuinely surprised to see her when she'd started speaking.

She felt like such an idiot; stammering over herself like a teenager. She tried to focus through the haze of immuno-boosters that were flooding her system, but somehow her brain could make her mouth work the way it wanted to. It took the feel of his strong arms wrapping around her suit to silence her ramblings. His deep voice was soft and brought comfort to her as they held each other.

She regretted pulling away almost before she did so, but she wanted him to understand, needed him to understand that the risks were minimized and that she wanted this. He followed her as she sat on the bed, and she continued to babble even as his hand touched the side of her visor. He said nothing and smiled at her as is other hand mirrored its twin. Her hands moved almost of their own accord, meeting his and guiding them to the pressure points on the faceplate which allowed it to snap off.

The hiss of the pressurized air releasing from her suit forced her to lock her eyes with his and fall silent. She watched the mild surprise cross his face; was her face what he expected? Did he even have any expectations? His smile that crossed his face as he touched her cheek told her all she needed to know and before she could stop herself she had all but pounced on him.

From that point on, coherent thought was lost to Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, and the inferno that had built itself within her heart was unleashed thoughout her body.

Is it not amazing the power a single persistent spark can hold?

xxx

**I'll repeat myself so no one is confused, this story has no continuity. These one shots are in no particular order, and several will have similar content to others. They may all die one chapter and be meeting for the first time in the next. Maybe when I am finish with this I'll arrange them in some particular order but for now they are listed as they come to me.**

**To those who didn't fully understand Chapter Four, as I said Commander Dante Shepard died with Tali'Zorah. All that remained of him was his anger and his hatred. There is a point where even the strongest willed person will snap. He survived Mindoir, and the trauma he suffered manifested itself in nothing short of hatred and rage which he used to reap vengance upon the slavers at Torfan. When he was at last able to understand the horror of what he had done he locked his hatred away, it's similar to that one movie that came out a while back Sweeny Todd or something. He was so consumed by his need for revenge that nothnig else mattered. He killed Mordin because he shared some of the blame in Tali's death. Shepard had already decided that he was going to die aboard the base.**

**To Jack and the other's deaths, he killed them because in his now twisted and broken mind he felt that they had no right to live out the rest of thier lives when Tali could not. He killed Jack because he knew he didn't have the neccisary skill or firepower to slaughter them all himself and would just leave them to die at the hands of the collectors. Grunt's death was because he decided that he would die alone, surrounded by nothing but his weapons, his anger and his sorrow.**

**I hope this clarifies things for you. I thank you again for reading and remind you that these may be used by anyone interested so long as I am given the credit I am due in the chapter in question that they are used.**

**Until then,**

**_GN_**


	6. Choices

**A lot of what showed up here comes from my own personal belief system. If you have a problem with it, that's your choice.**

xxx

The bar was dimly lit and tastefully under decorated, no varren heads mounted on the wall, no widescreen to watch vids or sports. It seemed like the perfect place for someone to stop, catch their breath, and reflect. Not many people were around though; an asari and turian were talking in the far corner, and there was a salarian passed out at the end of the bar.

The bartender glanced up when he walked in. He was a non-descript man, perfectly average in every way except his bright blue eyes. His hair was mid-length with some grey in it and a series of wrinkles lined his face as a small smile graced his features. He dropped the rag in His hand and waved Shepard over, reaching under the bar for a mug of amber liquid as He did so.

Shepard approached the bar and took his seat, there seemed not much else to do. "This usually helps." The man said as He handed the mug to him. It held an amber liquid unlike anything he'd ever seen in a cup before, and he'd done a shot of Ryncol on a dare with Grunt. He took a sniff of the drink as his brought it up to his lips, reflexively checking for poison. After that fiasco on Omega, he'd made a habit of checking his food and drink, particularly if he didn't know what it was.

"What's the point?" The barkeep asked, reclaiming His rag and wiping down another mug. "You're dead anyway."

Shepard nodded at that; He remembered distinctly the sound of the shot that hit him square in the back of the head as he was pulled up onto the Normandy. He would have laughed at his own horrible luck had he not had a nasty hole in his head. He heaved a sigh and downed the liquid in one gulp.

_Whoa._

He coughed and stared into the now drained mug. "That's…That's _good_." A lame description but the only one his mind could conjure up. It tasted like…like _her_. "What is it?"

"House specialty." The Bartender answered with a smile, not even glancing up as He put another mug on the bar in front of him.

Shepard downed the second mug and shook his head looking around, the turian had gone leaving the asari sipping her drink in silence. His next question was the obvious one, him being dead in all. "So…What is this place? Heaven? Hell?"

The barkeep shrugged. "Both of those places are where you just came from." Shepard blinked and glanced at the old man, confused. "Do you really think you'll find a better place than having Tali in your arms?" The man gave him a knowing smile. "That's as good as it gets, kid. Heaven's a state of mind, not some place in the clouds."

"How did you know-"

"About Tali?" He shrugged again. "I'm the bartender. I'm supposed to have seen it all and know it all. That and serve drinks."

"So what is this place?"

"Your new residence." He thumbed to a hallway. "Your room's the last door on the right. Uniform's on the bed."

"Uniform?" Shepard asked turning to stare at Him.

"Yep." The old man gave a small grin and there was a mischievous twinkle in His eyes as he elaborated. "You're my new waiter."

He stared at him for a moment, not fully comprehending what he was being told, then he drained his mug and headed to his room to change. Well, it wasn't what he'd expected, but it was better than he'd feared.

Maybe he'd make some decent tips at least.

xxx

Dante brought back the tray back to the front, a few scattered dishes strewn across. "Check for table five, Boss." He plunked the tray down in the slot, where it was pulled back out of sight by unseen hands. The old man handed him the bill slip, and he plucked it up in two fingers, heading back to deliver the receipt. He couldn't help but quirk a smile at the concept. No one ever paid. The bill was merely a formality, no cash was carried in these parts and that made for quite a dearth in tips.

The turian took his bill with a nod, stood and exited the bar into the blinding light outside, with no more customers he headed back to the bar. The bartender was waiting for him, a fresh cup of the house special on the table. "So what's all this for?" Dante waved his hand back at the bar before taking a long drink.

"What, the bar?" Shepard nodded and the older man shrugged. "It's just a place where people can rest for a bit. Take things in before they head back down."

Shepard paused as the man poured him another glass. "You mean to be reborn."

The man nodded sipping his own drink again. "You had something better in mind?"

"Well…Yeah actually."

"Heaven? Hell?" The older man rolled His eyes and began cleaning the bar again. "Simplistic concepts. Be a good kid, tithe at church you go to an eternal paradise. Don't and you burn forever." He chuckled. "It's stupid, kid. The only real Afterlife I know of is that bar on Omega."

"What's wrong with paradise?" Shepard demanded. "After all the suffering people go through down there, don't they deserve _some_ happiness?"

He laughed again and shook His head. "Kid, you couldn't handle _half _the shit your religions promise. Let me ask you something; do you remember the last time you had a great fuck? The kind so good it makes you forget your own name?" Shepard blinked a few times but nodded. "Well, some faiths tell people that in Heaven they have sex like that that lasts for centuries."

A wry smirk crossed Shepard's face. "I could live with that."

"Oh?" The Barkeep's eyes glinted with a subtle cross of both amusement and curiosity. "So you think you could handle it? Honestly Shepard, try to imagine going all day long without stopping, no cuddling, just screwing the other person's brains out. Hell, try to imagine going half a day."

Shepard tried to imagine it and found, to his annoyance, that the old man was right. As much as he enjoyed sex even he had his limits. "Ok," He conceded. "But there are different kinds of pleasure. You could alternate between a good meal, relaxing with a book..."

He rolled His eyes again. "Instant gratification? What's the point of getting everything you want without having to work for it? Do you have any idea how boring that'd get? Take a look at your friend Miranda."

Shepard remembered. Miranda Lawson was designed from birth to be the perfect woman, she never had the choice of being normal. And she hated her father with a vengeance for forcing that on her. _Still..._ "I don't know, I think I could weather a few centuries cuddling with Tali."

"And after that? Remember, Heaven is supposed to be for _eternity_. Can you handle a million years of bliss?" Shepard was silent and a wry grin crossed His face. "I didn't think so."

"So we just go back to the galaxy then."

"You got something better to do?"

He chewed his lip before finishing his drink. There were two small bowls on the bar, one filled with various chocolates and the other filled with what looked like rotten mini cabbages for the quarians and turians that came in. Plucking one of the dark chocolates out he popped it in his mouth and answered. "What about punishment for our sins?"

"Case by Case basis." He shrugged His shoulders, He was always doing that Shepard noticed. "Choices have consequences. Action, reaction, equal and opposite."

"In this life or the next?" Shepard asked quirking an eyebrow.

"Good things come to those who wait." He handed him his order pad and nodded His head behind him. "Customer on table nine, hop to it."

xxx

Sometimes he talked with the customers. We've all got our own problems, and in his experience talking about them always seemed to help, if only a little. A lot of the customers had a hard time accepting their deaths; the fact that it happened; the way that it happened; the time that it happened, that sort of thing. He tried to help them sort through it. He was no Kelly Chambers by any means, but they always seemed appreciative and knowing that they could head back seemed to reassure them. "Next time," the general saying went before they left, "next time, I'll get it right."

Every once in a while he knew the person.

"You deserved a better commanding officer." He told one of them; a soldier who served under him at Torfan and survived until now.

The man shook his head and smirked as he was served his food and drink. "No Sir. You were the best, took those bastards out and sent them a message."

"I let my personal feelings get in the way. I nearly cost us all our lives." Shepard argued as the soldier downed his third glass.

"Hell of a ride though while it lasted." He laughed a little. "Don't beat yourself up about it, Sir. We chose to follow you into that bunker. We could have easily refused."

"Why didn't you?" He asked, handing him the salt shaker which he applied liberally.

"It was our choice." He gave one last smile before he fell to eating.

xxx

"Sometimes we don't get to make a choice." He pointed out to the barkeep during a slow period. He did this sometimes, just him and the Boss sipping on the house special and talking about whatever popped up in his head.

"There's always a choice, kid." The old man murmured sweeping around the bar.

"What if a thief has to choose between stealing and starving?" Shepard demanded. "I don't see much choice there; he has to steal to survive."

"It's still his choice." The barkeep retorted. "He can choose to starve or he can choose to steal. Just because the choice is Bad versus Worse doesn't mean it isn't there. He just chose _not_ to starve."

He frowned and thought about it, deciding on a new tact. "What about a rape victim? They never have much choice, when they've got someone holding them down."

"Consequences arising from past action."

The calmness of the old man's statement both shocked and infuriated him. "What past actions could _possibly _justify a rape?!"

"Why is it that people _always _assume the word 'consequences' always implies something bad?" The man shook His head as He came back around the bar, stowing the broom under the bar as he continued. "Look kid, no event happens in a vacuum; they are all connected, flowing from one to the next. Choices cascade, like a series of forking branches, and each choice determines the next set of choices."

He came back up with a pitcher of the amber liquid and poured Himself a drink. "Even if we don't always know what the consequences of our choices may be, we still make a choice. And every choice, no matter how inconsequential, may have consequences reaching far beyond that previously imagined. Not necessarily a _punishment_, mind you, but consequences…"

He raised the glass to eye level, stared at Shepard through it's depths. "The woman finds herself in her position through choosing to walk a dangerous path, not maintaining awareness of her surroundings, or trusting a charming stranger. She chose not to carry a weapon, to train to protect herself, or if she did train she did so under an incompetent." He sipped his drink, and then grimaced. "And I never claimed it was justified. The rapist made a choice, too."

"So where does the blame lie?" Shepard asked after mulling the words over in his head. "With her choice or his?"

"Both." He shrugged and sipped the drink. "Mostly his, though; his crime, his time. Her sin is one of negligence, or foolishness, maybe even both. The consequences are becoming a rape victim. He's the one who chose to rape someone, he chose her specifically and refused to listen to her pleas. His consequences and his _punishments_ are a little more profound." Another small smile crossed His face.

He made a lot of smiles like that. As though He was always half amused, and half saddened by what He saw.

"I am, yes." Once again, He seemed to read his thoughts. "Life is a tragic comedy."

"So what am I?"

"A character in a video game." The barkeep laughed tapping his forehead with His index and middle fingers.

Shepard took the small jab and sighed. "So what could I have done differently?" He asked.

"You could have tried to calm down." He suggested gently, once more knowing what he was talking about with little elaboration.

Dante wanted to reply with his ire, he hated being reminded of Torfan. "I-" He stopped unable to get mad at the old man. "I could have listened to my squad when they told me to pull back. I could have waited for reinforcements and held the entrance."

"You live and you learn."

"And then you die." He snorted finishing his drink. "Big help then."

"Hence the joke."

Shepard grunted pushing away from the bar and heading back to his room. "You're a dick you know that?"

"I've been called a lot worse than that, kid." He retorted to his retreating back

"They were right!" He shouted before slamming the door behind him.

xxx

"Customer, table six." He pointed towards the new girl. Quarian; her back was to him but he smiled anyway. He'd always liked the Quarian customers. They reminded him a lot of Tali, and they were always interesting dressers; they never arrived in their environmental suits. Always in elaborate and colorful clothes, most of them with hoods or cloth masks. When he asked the old man about it He just shrugged it off and told him they always came in like that. After a while he'd just stopped questioning it.

Still, this quarian seemed…different. Her clothing was a little more modest than most of the others, colored in hues of deep purple and black. He took his time walking up to her, trying to place the brooding woman by staring at her hood. "What can I get you?" He asked, tired as he was he tried to remain polite with most of the customers. Even the Batarians.

She raised her head to look at him, and for the first time in what felt like years he was staring into the twin diamonds he'd loved and lost so long ago…

He couldn't have suppressed the look of shock if he tried, even as she let out her own little gasp of surprise.

Tali swallowed, his gaze searing her own. "Wha-" She swallowed again, as though she hadn't drank anything in centuries. She took a deep breath and parted her pale lips to speak. "What do you have on tap?" Of all the questions she could have asked, she asked something so…inconsequential. It was just like the night before he died, she had been rambling helplessly until he'd wrapped her in his arms and calmed her.

Shaking his head he smiled as he had that night and answered. "I'll get you the house special."

He felt her eyes on him as he walked back to the bar and made her order. He didn't miss the small, almost invisible smirk on the barkeep's face, nor the amused twinkle in his eye as He told him, "She gets the room next door to yours." He stopped gripping the two mugs, one amber and the other a glimmering silver reserved for turians and quarians. "She's on the payroll too."

"What payroll? We don't even use credits here."

"Payment's in a currency other than coin kid." He wiped down the bar again and chuckled. "Now get out of here. She's waiting."

Shepard didn't press him and made his way back to her, she was still watching, though she now looked much less surprised and far more curious. He'd only just sat down and placed the mugs in front of her when she voiced a question. "How-What are you doing here?"

Shepard smiled a little. "I'm the waiter." He ran a hand through his hair. "And you're on the payroll now too."

She blinked for a moment and let out a soft laugh. "Kind of a step down from saving the galaxy, huh?"

"You're telling me." He took a drink from his glass and she did the same. Her reaction elicited a chuckle as she stared at it, her bright eyes gleaming in surprise.

"What is this?" She asked swirling it around her cup and staring at him.

He shrugged in his best imitation of the boss and answered. "House specialty mixed for Turians and Quarians." She opened her mouth with another question and he continued. "Don't ask what's in it. Barkeep won't say a word." They were quite for a while as she tasted more of the drink. "You hungry?"

She quirked a delicate eyebrow. "Do we even get hungry here?"

"No, but old habits are still hard to break." He glanced at the barkeep as he served a salarian at the bar. "Food's good though."

"Maybe later." Her voice was lower now, even now her face was so expressive. She tried to smile at him and although she failed miserably she succeeded in looking beautiful. She looked down into the cup again and sighed, drinking it without another word. "We won by the way." She said after a moment of silence. "Destroyed the Reapers, took back the home world."

"Good to hear." He didn't question how, at this point it didn't matter all that much. They sat there for a while staring at each other and occasionally drinking from their mugs. "Boss says you're on the payroll now."

She set her cup down again, that same eyebrow raised. "Doing what exactly?"

"You'll have to ask him. I'm supposed to show you to your room though." He watched as she finished her drink, shivering at the taste. After a while of staring at each other he stood and beckoned her to follow him.

He led her down the hall to her room and she made a small comment. "I hope he doesn't expect me to wear _that_ color."

He laughed, the uniform was a very cheerful and obscene shade of orange. No doubt she was going to hate it as much as he hated his own. "What do you mean? You look beautiful in orange."

"Shut up, Bosh'tet." She scowled as he chuckled again, they reached the door and he opened it for her. She peered inside, it wasn't all that different from his room; the uniform was a nice shade of purple which she took a liking to almost immediately. "Is you room like this too?"

"A little bigger." He commented following her as she opened the door to her private bathroom. "Bed's wider too." _I'll gladly share it with you._ He wanted to say, but he couldn't make his mouth move.

When did he become such a coward?

"So…" She shuffled her feet, her hands laced behind her back; it reminded him so much of that night.

"So…" He echoed her. "I'll…let you get changed then." He turned and heard her sigh behind him. The sigh was what made him pause at the door. Was he really just going to walk away from her now? After all this time was he going to leave her again?

_Fuck that._

He turned back around and closed the door behind him before half-slamming her into the wall as he claimed her lips just as he had that first night. She returned the kiss with vigor, her chilled hands tugging at his clothes to feel the warm flesh beneath. Modest as her top appeared it came off very much like a scarf. Coherent thought was lost very soon to both of them as they moved to the bed.

The night before what would be his final battle, he'd allowed her free reign, given her the time to get used to her first intimate experience. She had all but jumped him to start things off.

He returned the favor three times over.

xxx

"Never again, Shepard." She murmured into his ear as they lay under the sheets. She didn't ask, she didn't beg. She _commanded_ him, leaving no room for discussion. "Never leave me again."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He nuzzled her neck and placed a gentle kiss on collar much to her delight. "You're mine, Tali. Forever."

"Amen." She giggled giving him a squeeze as she kissed him again.

They cuddled for a while longer before he whispered apologetically, "I have to go. My shift starts soon."

She shook her head in defiance, wrapping her lithe arms around his neck and holding on tight. "What about me?"

"Ask the boss." He answered with a soft chuckle, wrapping an arm around her neck and kissing her forehead. She sighed and released him, falling back to the mattress and taking a sensual pose. He openly laughed again and shook his head standing up. She pouted a little but followed his lead dressing in the new garments. She finished first and struck a pose to which he whistled appreciatively as he finished.

They left the room together and found the bar almost empty, save a few humans sitting in a corner drinking from their cups. The barman continued wiping the counter and welcomed her with a smile. "Good to meet you at last Tali. Have a drink."

They both settled into a chair and he took a drink from hug as Tali stared at the barman intently. "So…Why are we here? Why not Heaven or Hell?"

The man chuckled. "Like I told you're boyfriend, Hell's where you just came from." He nodded to her. "But you knew that didn't you?"

She did. Life had been a living hell without him in it. She had missed him so much it had almost destroyed her. These thoughts saddened her for a moment before his hand found her shoulder. She glanced up at him and smiled, reaching out to hug him. The bartender watched them, a small smile on his face.

"But why are we here, boss?" He asked, his own curiosity now piqued. "Why can't we move on? Like the customers?"

"You're here at another employee's request." He commented before sipping on His own mug of the amber liquid. "He left when you got here; said he wouldn't give me anymore backtalk if I got you two together after you both died." He looked at the door watching a human enter. "Good kid that Garrus." He nodded a few times another smile. "Hard worker."

_Garrus?_ Shepard stared. He remembered Garrus; He'd died opening the lock on the Collector base. And he'd made a request for them…

And then it dawned on him the full implications of what the man was telling him. There was only one thing Garrus answered to besides his own calling…

Him.

"You mean you're…_Him_." Tali started, no doubt reaching the same conclusion he had.

The old man grinned wiping down the bar. "Some places. Other places I'm a Her. Depends on my mood."

Dante Shepard felt his jaw slacken a bit as his mind raced. Millions of questions filled his head. "Why?" It was all he could manange, still not fully believing who he was having this conversation with.

"Why what? Why do I let bad things happen to good people?" The old man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That'll do." Tali answered for him, sounding as dumbstruck as he felt.

"Part and parcel of free will." He sipped his drink. "Freedom means the freedom to fail; I don't _let_ anything happen, you people choose to do it all. I just watch."

"And judge?" Dante demanded.

"And judge." He nodded. "Just remember. Your successes were your own fault, too." He smirked. "I don't fix sports, either by the way. Where's the fun in that?"

"So what _do_ you do? You created all this!" Tali demanded. "Why not take an active hand?"

"I created all this…" He waved his hand down at the floor, in the direction wherein the rest of the galaxy presumably lay. "for you people. It's your toy, to do with as you desire."

"That's it? No ultimate goal? No purpose?" Shepard frowned. "Where do the Reapers fit into all this?"

"Same thing; Free will. Someone, somewhere created them, same as your people created the Geth." He met Tali's gaze. "It was your choice."

"But you must have known what they would do to your creations! Why not destroy them yourself?!" Tali half-shouted.

He shook His head, smiling wanly. "It's not about Good vs. Evil, the way you think. Good is advancement, development, progress. Evil is regression, degradation, devolvement. The _purpose_, as you refer to it, is a question of, 'How far are you willing to grow?'" He refilled His mug, sighed. "And growing always hurts."

He glanced down at the amber fluid, stared into the depths. "The Reapers lost. In the end, Evil always must. The mindset and choices made are self destructive. If you had failed, someone else would have stopped them. They _can't_ win forever, because they're born losers."

Dante laughed, he couldn't help it. "Harbinger and the Reapers…Nothing but born failures?"

He laughed right along with him. "You ever see a happy, well adjusted person who wanted to destroy everything? They think that's true power, because it's all they have. They sneer at love, because they can't have it. Friendship, joy, happiness, they disdain them like a little boy dismisses a toy he can't have. 'Well, who wants it _anyway_?'" He turned his nose up, just like a spoiled brat. "They might have done a lot of damage, but they couldn't rule forever. They fell, and now some other crisis will have to be dealt with." He shrugged. "Makes for an entertaining story."

"So now what?" Tali asked as a krogan walked in.

He rose His eyebrow and extended a hand to the door. "Now you can go. Be reborn, live another life if that's your choice."

They looked at one another before Dante smirked. "I don't know, Tali. Can't say this wouldn't be a hell of a retirement plan."

Tali returned the smile and they turned to look into the quizzical eyes of the Bartender. "Maybe we'll stay. A few extra hands might be helpful."

He smiled and shook His head. "Your choice." Glancing at the door again he nodded to a pair of asari walking in. "You two should get to work then, its looking like it's gonna be a busy day."

They turned and moved to take the orders before He called out to Tali. "What're you doing? Get back to the kitchen." She turned and blinked at Him. "You're the new short order cook."

She blinked several times and stared from the chuckling Dante to the Old Man. "What-What do I cook?"

"Ask the customer." The Barman answered pouring a mug for a salarian who'd just sat down at the bar.

"It's their choice."

xxx

**Review. That is all.**

**GN**


	7. Super Awesome OneShot Collection

Here is the collection of mini-one shots I promised.

xxx

1: Reunion

He didn't say a word as she took the seat across from him. His brown eyes were laced with slivers of deep crimson, flashing and gleaming in bright lights of Flux. She opened her mouth to speak when he cut her off. "I was saving that seat." His voice was cold, hateful even, as though her very presence here irked him. He took a small sip of his glass and winced a little. "What do you want, Williams?"

It was funny, when she saw him walking in she had come up with a long list of things to say, but now that she was sitting here she was at a loss for words. And his silent glare wasn't helping matters at all. "What are you drinking?" She asked, trying to make small talk, work up to what she really wanted to say.

"Turian wine." He took another sip and winced again. "I'm building up a tolerance."

"I see." In truth she didn't see, she knew him well enough to know he enjoyed a challenge, but this was just stupid. "I'd like to talk."

"Obviously." He leaned back in his chair, scanning over her head in the general direction of the door. "Williams if this is about Horizon; don't bother. You made your choice and I'll respect that."

"Skipper, just let me-"

"There's nothing else to say." His eyes flashed a brighter crimson. "I needed you and you turned your back on me."

Now she was scowling too. The looks he was giving her were ones you shot your enemy, not someone you trusted. And his tone carried every ounce of contempt her other commanding officers held when they found out she was a Williams. It was really starting to piss her off. "What was I supposed to say, Shepard? You showed up after two years and were working for the enemy! You didn't even _try _to contact me to tell me you were alive!"

"You don't think I wanted to? You don't think that you were the first thought on my mind when I woke up in a Cerberus base?" He shot back. His calm, cold fury hurt her more than if he'd shouted. "When The Illusive Man wouldn't tell me anything I tried to call in favors from every Alliance friend I had. Anderson, Hackett, I even called up Gunny Ellison for old time's sake, they _all _stonewalled me. If I had an _inkling _of an idea of where you were, do you think I wouldn't have been on the first relay there?"

The glass that rested in his right hand gave an audible crack, the lime green contents flowed through the cracks to soak his hand. He opened his hand slowly and the glass fell to pieces. "Then, when I finally find you on Horizon the only thing you're concerned with is my affiliation with Cerberus."

She looked away again. "I know and I apologized." She looked up again as a thought hit her. "Didn't you get my message?"

He handed the remains of the broken cup to one of the waitresses and asked for another round. The girl looked surprised but nodded her head. "Yes, I did." He noted her look and another scowl crossed his features. "Why? Did you think Cerberus was blocking my mail?"

"I-" She hated how defensive she sounded, because that was exactly what she'd been thinking. She wanted to believe that it was Cerberus tearing them apart and not her own stupidity. "What was I supposed to think?! You never even answered!"

"As I said, there was nothing else to say." His tone became matter of fact; as if what he was saying should have been obvious. "Did you think a sappy poem and an 'I'm sorry' would make everything okay again? I needed you and you abandoned me. You turned your back on me and refused to even allow me to explain myself." The waitress returned with his drink and set it in front of him before walking off.

He sighed. "I've moved on, Williams. Maybe it's time you did the same."

She glared at him and she tried to stay angry. God, she wanted to just pop him in the mouth right there, but she kept her cool and stood. His face remained like stone as he took another drink. "I guess I'll see you around Commander."

"I guess you will." He answered to her retreating back as he took a slightly larger drink and gagged on it.

She tried to keep the tears from her eyes as she walked off. She was angry, yes she was furious but not at him. As much as she wanted to blame this on Cerberus, on him she couldn't because deep down she knew that this was her fault; she'd ruined whatever how they'd had of a life together.

And now there was no going back.

When she reached the door a quarian bumped into her. "Excuse me." The woman murmured as she slipped past her and into the bar. The sound of her voice though forced Ashley to pause, she recognized it. But it couldn't have been…Turning her head, she watched as the quarian made her way through the small crowd to Shepard's table. She could only watch as Shepard's face lit up in a grin and he stood to greet her. She knew that look anywhere. For the best three months of her life she'd known that look all to well.

"Hey." He chuckled, looping his arms around her thin waist in a hug. It was the same sort of hug he used to reserve for her, and it stung how much she missed it. "I was starting to think you got lost."

Tali returned the embrace, Williams could deny no longer who she was, her lithe arms laced around his neck the same way Ashley's own had once held him. "Sorry, I was held up." Her tone was playful, as though just being around him was all that she needed.

From that point on, Ashley Williams knew he was lost to her.

xxx

2: Pep-talk

Tali could only stare after the krogan scout as he charged past her and down the hall, bellowing like…well, a krogan, as he went. "I can't believe that actually worked…"

Shepard chuckled. "There's no pep talk like a military pep talk." He glanced back at her and even behind her visor he could tell she wasn't entirely happy with his choice of analogies in his little talk with the scout. "Sorry about that whole 'quarian with a tummy-ache' thing Tali. I was kind of making it up as I went along." She quirked a brow he could not see but did not uncross her arms. "I didn't mean any of it, you know that."

"Really?" Her tone was playfully dangerous.

He nodded, his crimson eyes meeting hers, there an equally playful twinkle in them as he continued. "Was going to say something about the Hanar, but I couldn't think of a good metaphor."

She rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh."

He sighed. "Just for reference, about how long do you think I'm going to be hearing about this?"

"_Weeks_Shepard." She walked past him, following Mordin who had gone on ahead.

He heaved another sigh, put his rifle on his shoulder, and proceeded to follow her. "Good to know."

xxx

3: Migraines

"What the fuck?"

Tali groaned, putting her hand to her visor and pressing her forehead against it. _Damn it…_ She rolled on her side to look at the human. Currently they were both in Jack's little home down in the lower decks of engineering. She had come down here in hopes of getting away from all the light and noise of the Normandy so her headache could die down.

Actually a headache wasn't quite accurate enough to describe the sheer and unending pain that her throbbing skull was inflicting upon her. It felt as though her skull had been placed directly under the boot of a krogan who was bench-pressing an Alliance dreadnought. Noise, such as Jack's outburst, and light, such as the near constant lighting of the Normandy's halls, only seemed to increase the pain.

So as soon as she heard Jack being called over the intercom to the shuttle for a mission she made her way here for a nice quite nap. Her hope was that the mission would keep Jack away long enough for her headache to go away; sadly, seeing as the psychotic human was standing before her now, the mission was shorter than she'd anticipated.

"Sorry," She sighed sitting up and moving away from the bed to allow Jack to sit down. "I-" She let out another groan; Keelah, even the sound of her own voice hurt her head. "Nevermind." She stumbled off before the human could question her further.

xxx

4: I Really Like My Rifle.

"You suck Shepard." Garrus grunted, leaning back on a crate and rubbing his gut. "You and your cybernetics."

"You're just mad that you lost again." Shepard laughed wiping the sweat from his brow. They were standing in the cargo hold, the various crates arranged in a circular pattern. "Besides, that boot to my thigh was a cheap shot."

"Yeah, like you punching my throat wasn't?"

"You kicked me in the balls!" Shepard shouted.

"You grabbed my mandibles and head butted me!" The turian countered indicating the cybernetic appendage. "This one's still sore!"

The two of them glared at each other before a smirk crossed Shepard's face and he started laughing, it wasn't long before Garrus joined him and they both leaned back against their crate of choice. "This was a great idea Garrus."

"I haven't had this much fun in _years_Shepard." The turian winced as he sat down on the crate and rolled his neck around. "Ow! Ah, that's going to bruise."

Shepard took a seat and held his right eye which was starting to darken. "So what's the score now? Three to Three?"

Garrus shrugged. "Sure, let's go with that." They both chuckled again and Garrus sighed. "You certainly know how to make a comeback, though."

"What can I say, Garrus? You get predictable after a while."

"Maybe." He looked at the ceiling and they were both quiet as they caught their breath. "So, you and Tali huh?" Garrus said at last.

"Surprised?" Shepard asked crossing his arms and leaning on one of the fans.

"No, not really. I always thought she had a bit of thing for you, and we all know how much you enjoy a challenge." At the raised eyebrow Shepard shot him Garrus amended. "Not that I think that's all there is to it."

"I really like her Garrus." A genuine smile crossed his face. "Words cannot describe..."

"It's the hips isn't it?" Garrus chuckled and blocked the half-hearted punch from the commander. "So, what does she look like under that mask of hers anyway?"

"Beautiful."

"No, I mean physically. What does her face look like?"

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Why not ask her?"

"I did. She said it was a very personal question and stonewalled me."

"So you came to me?" Shepard quirked an eyebrow. "Why are you so interested anyway?"

"Well," Garrus glanced around looking suddenly quite nervous. "No reason."

"Uh huh." He crossed his arms and smirked. "Joker's started his damn betting pool again, hasn't he?"

Garrus's mandibles twitched and he sighed in defeat before pleading. "Shepard, I _really_ like my rifle."

xxx

If anyone has ideas for scenes feel free to suggest them. Thank you for your generous reviews and keep them coming.


	8. Families and Promises

**Thank you to all my reveiwers. Without you there's not much ****point to posting this stuff.**

**Can you find the two hidden quotes from a pair of my favorite games?**

xxx

Everyone was gathered on Deck Two of the SR-2 Normandy. There was no celebration over the destruction of the Collector Base. None of the ample alcoholic supplies stocked were being put to much use. Instead they all were gathered around the medical bay; where their leader, the man who was the only thing binding them together, lay on an operating table with both Dr. Carolyn Chakwas and Professor Mordin Solus working frantically to save his life.

Samara and Thane sat alongside several other members of the crew, their hands folded in prayer. Jack was on the far side of the deck, away from the others; pacing and stealing short glances at the medical bay. Her face betrayed her alternating fury and worry even if tried and failed to put on a mask of indifference. Jacob joined her in the act though he was smart enough to take up his pace near the elevator where Miranda was propped against the wall.

Grunt was squatted down on the small set of stairs leading to the Gunnery Control station, running a rag along his shotgun. It had been a gift from his Battlemaster in light of his ascension into adulthood, and as such was his most treasured possession. Zaeed was at the cook's station, raiding the alcohol supplies. At the moment he was downing glasses of what marked his second bottle of Batarian ale, drinking as though this were his last night alive

"How?" Tali whispered to the turian on her left as she stood near one of the windows to the med bay. Her glowing eyes flashed with worry and subtle grief. "How did this happen, Garrus?"

Garrus looked down and away from her as he shut his eyes. "I don't know Tali." It was strange how guilty he felt about it. "One second we were pulling him up to the door, the next…"

"Our scan reveals a class four hemorrhage in Shepard-Commander's mid-torso." Legion remarked from its position beside the med bay doors. His words brought just about everyone to attention, each of them looking for any sort of news, even from the resident geth. "The wound was a critical injury. We estimate the loss of two point five five three metric liters of blood. Probability of survival gauged at roughly twenty percent."

"Fuck that!" Jack shouted, breaking her silence as she stormed up to the Geth Infiltrator. Her biotics flared up and she put a finger to the geth's chest. "He's gonna make it!"

The shutters of Legion's head fluttered as it tilted its head, regarding her. "We are stating facts. Personal belief does not change them."

"Shepard is my Battlemaster." Grunt grunted, directing a glare to the synthetic. "He will _not_ die a weakling's death."

"Damn right he won't." Zaeed added, turning around and downing a large gulp of ale. "That man in there has stared death in the face enough that it don't even faze him. Screw your odds, Shepard will get through this and laugh about it later, mark my words."

Legion watched them, its head plates flicking up and down in sequence before falling. With a small nod of its head, it responded. "We acknowledge your belief in Shepard-Commander's ability to recover. To reduce likelihood of violence done to this platform we will no longer state the probabilities of survival and will inform you should his condition improve."

"Just shut up, Legion." Tali snapped, staring back into the medical bay as Doctor Chakwas left and claimed a bag of blood. Her voice was quiet, and had Garrus not been beside her he probably wouldn't have heard her. "He'll make it…You'll see."

xxx

"Arashu, goddess of motherhood and protection, grant that his body be healed, his mind strengthened and his spirit healthy." Thane's voice was a quiet whisper as he repeated his prayers like a mantra. "And should the worst come to pass, may he know peace in the vast oceans of Kalihira's grace." He had made no movement when Jack had turned to yell at Legion, his prayers continued throughout the conversation. But his mind was as lightning, flashing from one memory to the next again and again.

_Eyes bright with trust regard me as we speak of our pasts; he does not see the assassin, only a dying friend though he has known me only in my twilight days. I tell him of Irakah's death, trust him with knowledge as I have with no other. He accepts it with grace, offering sympathy but without pity.-_

_He laughs as bullets fly over his head; his eyes like a child receiving a new toy to play with. He faces the possibility of death with such a casual mind, no fear, no trepidation; only the thrill of a new challenge. "Anytime you're ready Krios!" He shouts to me though his laughter, firing blind over the overturned table he is using for cover. I aim and take the shot.-_

_He glances from the officer to me and pleads a convincing case. The officer listens and agrees to his proposal, compassion in his voice. My son is saved; spared from the cruelties of prison life. He will work for this officer; he will be shown how to properly use his skills for the greater good. I try to voice my thanks and he brushes me off, a chuckle growing in his throat. "He's a good kid, Thane." He says to me; that unpredictable smirk on his face. "Just like his father."-_

"Thane."

He was broken from his memories by a gentle hand on his arm and a soft, refined voice in his ear. He turned to see into the calming oceans in the eyes of the Asari Justicar beside him. He blinked and saw the faintest hint of worry in her gaze. It was unsettling. "I apologize." He did not force a smile and dipped his head down. She blinked and nodded her head in understanding before returning to her meditations. He returned to his prayers as well. Shepard will survive. Of that there was indeed no doubt.

xxx

"Must you continue to pace, Jacob?" Miranda demanded; her critical eye following the operative's every step.

"It helps me relax." He snapped back at her, his dark eyes meeting hers for a moment before he looked away again. "I should have given him cover. His ass was wide open out there and I-"

"Oh, now don't you start." She scowled gaining his attention again as she crossed her arms. "He wouldn't have blamed you for this and you shouldn't either."

Jacob clenched his fists as he watched the floor, and unclenched them with a deep sigh. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right Miranda. I just can't stand this waiting…" He came up to her and mirrored her pose crossing his arms and leaning on the wall. "He'll make it out won't he? You've studied medicine. Do you think-"

"I don't know…" Miranda cut him off, staring past him at the door. "Legion said that he had a class four hemorrhage. That means he'd lost over forty percent of his total blood count; about two liters give or take. If that's true, then they'll want to stop the bleeding and replace the blood as the first priority, then work on repairing the wound itself." She shook her head. "There are too many variables; it would depend on where exactly he got shot, how much blood he's lost, how fast we were able to get him to the medbay…"

"You're worried, aren't you?" Jacob asked, turning his head to look at the others.

"Terrified." She admitted after a time. "If we lose him again, I don't even want to think about what will happen to the galaxy."

"Yeah, the Alliance and the Council aren't going to do anything about it until it's too late. And I think I speak for everyone when I say Cerberus is not exactly a good option right now." Jacob shook his head. "If Shepard dies we're all screwed."

xxx

The weapon was spotless now, yet he continued to clean it; taking it apart and putting it together again. It was a habit he'd fallen into when he was idle and out of combat. He'd discussed the strange soothing effect it had on him with his Battlemaster sometime ago and he'd encouraged it. "Better safe than sorry, right?" He'd laughed, but Grunt saw the wisdom that was veiled in the human's words, he often spoke in doubled meanings, teaching through subtlety. And Grunt took every hidden meaning he found to heart.

His blue eye tracked the two eldest members of his Battlemaster's clan. The turian and the quarian had stood at his side once before, and despite his general dislike of turians and his doubts about the strength of quarians, he had come to respect them as his equals. They knew Shepard inside and out, and while he was injured they held the most sway over what would happen next.

Right now, they watched the window Shepard lay fighting behind. He could smell the stink of doubt in the air, as though his survival was even in question. Shepard had no equal; the Collectors fell like vermin to his wrath, mercenaries dropped like so many flies, even Death itself could not claim him if it was not his wish. He was a God of War made flesh, and with him leading his clan into battle against these so called "Reapers" _all_ would come to know it.

And what a clan he kept! Asari, Salarians, Drell, all of them soft, but it was a strong clan, everyone brought their strengths to the fight and they covered the other's weaknesses. The turian was a tactical marvel, no where near his Battlemaster but smart enough in his own right. And he was pure krogan, the perfect solider, modified with all the strengths of his kind and none of their weaknesses.

Despite their differences they worked as one. In the Collector base, following the turian's orders he was like a krogan tank, crushing everything that got too close and blasting anything that wouldn't move from their path. All the while, the dark human and the drell watched his back, taking out those that would flank him.

Indeed, he was proud to call this clan his own. He may have been Urdnot in name, but _this_ was his family.

"Ha!" He laughed, ignoring the odd looks he got from the gathered crew. "_Family_." He mused, looking at them with a grin. Now there was a thought. This was Shepard's family, he'd heard the turian and the human Jacob talking about his Battlemaster's past. He grew up on his home planet, he was forced to survive on his own without anyone to help him, and because of it he became strong. Now he shared that strength, and in doing so created a family to call his own. "We're his family."

Now _that_ was an interesting concept.

xxx

"Family." The krogan grunted, once again breaking the relative silence. Samara stopped her prayers long enough to glance at the krogan who returned his gaze and attention to his shotgun. Yet he seemed…pensive, perhaps? Well, as pensive as a Krogan was capable of becoming. She returned her gaze forward and closed her eyes. It was strange; he'd said the word with such reverence, as though it held some great meaning.

She mused over the word Family. Throughout her life she had associated the word with feelings of pain, sorrow, and regret. She attached the word to the face of her wayward daughter Morinth and her two sisters, who would never know the love and warmth of another's arms; fates that she inflicted upon them at birth.

Yet in pondering what it might mean for the krogan to speak of it with such fervor, she noticed some startling similarities to the men and women who she now stood alongside. They were a small group as most families are, each one of them were connected, all bonded as one by one man; a man whom had done right by all of them and asked nothing in return.

Commander Dante Shepard.

The thought of him brought a small smile to the aged Justicar's face. The man was so different from any being she'd ever encountered in all her years; the ultimate paradox. As gentle as an innocent child, yet as fearsome as a krogan deep in a blood rage; compassionate as an Asari, yet when sufficiently angered as cruel as a Batarian slaver. He acted without hesitation to aid the ones he cared about and punished those that dared to do them harm. In this way he was much like a Justicar himself, though he served no code beyond his own moral compass.

And his compass demanded that he destroy the base instead of handing it over to Cerberus. She found the decision to be the correct one; The Illusive Man and the people of the galaxy in general lacked the wisdom to use such technology responsibly. She didn't doubt that The Illusive Man had tried to persuade Shepard into keeping the base, much like the Snake in the human Christian Bible tempted Eve with the Apple.

But Shepard proved to be too strong to be swayed away from his morals and chose to do the right thing even if it meant that things would become more difficult in the future.

_And through it all, what was your reward? _She opened her eyes and trailed them to the young quarian who was watching the window with a great mixture of fear and hope. As she scanned the rest of the room, watching the others dealing with their concern in their own unique way, she felt another smile tug at her lips. _You never said…But I think I know…_

"We're his family." The Krogan mused aloud again and she nodded absentmindedly.

_Yes, indeed we are._

xxx

Jack scowled as she sat at the table, she stewed in her own fury for a second or two then stood again to continue pacing. What a load of shit. Family? So what was she then? The fucked up little kid that no one talked about? Screw them and screw Shepard for getting himself hurt and making her think about this shit.

She wanted to kill something; more so than usual, actually. Her entire body was aching to start a fight. She'd hoped that the robot would have been stupid enough to press his point, to keep saying that the stupid fuck wouldn't make it; give her a reason to turn him into scrap metal. But no, he'd backed down like a little bitch and if she tried to press the point and argue…

_Fuck!_

She stomped behind the counter and snatched the bottle of ale as Zaeed sat it down. She drank from it ignoring the burn in her throat as she slammed the bottle down and started coughing.

"Good shit, isn't it?" The scarred mercenary grunted as he pulled out another glass for her and filled it. "Only good thing to come out of those four eyed bastards."

"Yep." She answered taking the glass with a nod and drinking it. "Fucker better hurry up. If he dies after all this shit I'm gonna fucking kill him."

He laughed and finished his drink before pouring another. "I thought you didn't care, Jack. Raises your odds of survival, right?"

"Hey, fuck you Massani!" She snapped. "I owed Shepard, I still do. He's…" She looked into the yellow liquid and sighed downing it again. "We still need him."

The merc stared at the tattooed girl as he poured them both another round and tossed the bottle. "Yeah, I suppose we do." He went around the counter grabbing another bottle. "Hell of a thing though, I think the krogan might be onto something. Shepard's always treated us like a family, takes care of us and the like."

She stared at the drink, leaning on the table for support. "Yep." She managed. Shit, this was getting weird. She looked out at them all, people she'd fought and bled beside, who had saved her life in battle and who she'd returned the favor. Damn it, she hated this touchy-feely crap. She shook her head. "Fuck, he'd better make it."

She felt a rough pat on the back as the merc came up with a new bottle. "He will."

"I guaran-damn-tee it."

xxx

This hurt her.

Garrus didn't need to see her face to know this, nor did to need to see the small sparkling trails under her eyes to know that she was crying. He knew it instinctively, because he felt almost the exact same way. Shepard had been the only common tie that bound this team together. Without him, none of them would have made it through this mission alive. And as crazy as it sounded Grunt had hit the nail right on the head. He'd made each of them into a member of his family. From Jacob, who he had called a brother, to Samara who he treated as a psudo-grandmother, they were _all_ his family.

Without him, Jack would have continued to be the same blazing psychotic she always was, he helped her not because he needed her to trust him and be stable for the mission. He'd helped her because it was the right thing to do. Because he'd come to see her as the lunatic little sister he'd never had.

Two years ago he'd taken Garrus under his wing to fight Saren and his geth army; taught him just about everything he knew about how to deal with criminals. And yet even now he was still learning, even now Shepard remained his moral compass, watching out for him, helping him walk the line between justice and vengeance.

Two years ago he'd been the student, but now it seemed that Grunt, a krogan with little real world experience beyond what the lunatic warlord Okeer taught him, had taken his place and occupied the space of his protégé. Garrus had risen up to being his partner in crime, his right hand man, his brother.

Shepard trusted him with his life.

And he'd failed him. If he'd been more alert, if he'd been smart enough to lay down some suppressing fire alongside Joker, they'd be at the Citadel drinking and laughing at the giant after party he'd no doubt planned. Now here they were, all gathered around the medbay, not even sure that he would pull through. He glanced through the window again. It looked as though they were able to stop the bleeding and close off most of the wound. But he was looking very pale. From the crimson colors of the sheets he'd lost a lot of blood already.

He looked at Tali again watching what could be seen of her face. She was shaking a little, but no sound came from her helmet. He could only guess she'd shut off her speakers so she could cry in peace. Even still he noticed and he reached out to touch her shoulder. He tried not to seem surprised when she latched onto him in a hug and he patted her on the back.

_You'd better pull through this time Shepard._ His mind growled as he turned to continue watching the doctors work.

_If not for the Galaxy's sake, than for hers._

xxx

It was that exact same feeling she'd gotten two years ago, the chill running up and down her spine, the way her body quivered and this ungodly sorrow filled her heart. She'd felt this feeling only twice before, but she knew it all too well. The first instance that it had crept into her was when she'd looked back and saw the massive chunk of Sovereign that she thought had crushed him; the invisible dagger that pierced her heart and stole the breath from her lungs. But he'd made it through and she was healed.

The second time came about as she watched the Normandy reduced to scrap with him still onboard. The difference between the two was that the second time the dagger had been twisted when she realized he wouldn't make a miraculous return as before. That he was _dead_ and he was _never coming back_. And the pain had continued, lessening only a little as the two years passed without hearing his wild laughter, without seeing that near psychotic smirk.

And then he'd returned, like a ghost that refused to leave until his job was finished. He returned to her, that same wild smile; that same laugh in the face of danger. The pure elation that filled her soul when he came for her, pulling to safety in the exact same way he'd done two years ago. She'd mended in seeing him again, and healed completely when he held her only that night before.

But this, watching from beyond the window, helpless to aid him, this felt a thousand times worse…

And she was scared that this time no healing would come.

She was scared and she hated herself for it. She should have _known_, regardless of the facts presented, regardless of the odds against him; that he would pull through this and live. How many times had he gloated after doing what other people told him was impossible? How many times had he ignored the facts presented and went with his instincts? How many times had she heard him say "Screw the odds, we have guns!" or something to that effect?

She should have realized by now that _nothing_ was impossible for him. He'd been dead for _two years_, ambushed and killed by the Collectors, and all it did was make him angry. He'd assembled a team of mercenaries, lunatics, and killers and somehow held them together on one ship without anyone getting killed. He'd even convinced her to work with a geth, a _geth_ of all things. By now it should have been obvious to her that there was _nothing_ he could not do.

So why? Why did she doubt him even now? How could she honestly say she loved him when she couldn't even have enough faith that he would survive? She'd lost so much already, her friends on Haestrom, her father on the Alarei, if she lost him too…Tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried to contain her sobs. She didn't want to trouble the others; they were worried enough about Shepard and didn't need to see her breaking down.

But Garrus noticed, he and Shepard always seemed to be the first to notice when she was upset, or when something was wrong. She felt his hand on her shoulder and glanced at him, seeing that strange turian smile on his face, his mandibles spread wide in an imitation of a human cheek; telling her that it'd be ok, that if anyone could survive this, Shepard could. She hugged him and felt him pat her on the back, just as he had at his funeral. He had to make it out. If he didn't…

What was the point of fighting back?

xxx

Mordin sighed stepping from the medical bay. It was a messy surgery, very difficult too. He couldn't enjoy the challenge either; he was too emotionally invested from the start. Shepard was a good friend, a good man; he couldn't allow him to die, it would have been an unacceptable outcome. He couldn't have forgiven himself for it.

Dr. Chakwas was hesitant at first to accept his aid, but he insisted on it. Four trained hands were always better than two. It was a good thing she relented though; he would have died otherwise. It was also a good thing he'd thought ahead enough to keep enough of blood transfusion bags in science wing in case of emergency. He'd brought them down when they'd first brought Shepard in.

Despite his current condition things could have gone far, far worse. The shot had nicked his aorta, which was serious enough, but had it been only half a millimeter off and it would have punctured his liver, another millimeter in the opposite direction, his stomach. A forth of a centimeter and it would have severed his spinal column too. Shepard was _very_ lucky.

He glanced up to see the gathered group all staring at him, all expecting a report. "Critical condition." He stated just as Garrus opened his mouth. "Lots of blood loss, very lucky, wound barely missed vital organs, nicked his aorta, lost three liters of blood before we stopped the bleeding. Good thing he was already onboard when wound was inflicted, wouldn't have survived otherwise. Surgery was," He took a deep breath. "Messy."

"Is he going to make it?" Jacob asked.

"Difficult to say right now, blood lost not an issue, transfusion went smoothly. Wound still serious though, can't strain himself without risk of reopening it, needs time to heal." He shrugged looking back as Doctor Chakwas hooked up the blood bag and took the now crimson sheets away. "Only option is to wait, cannot speed healing, would do more harm than good, cannot help any further. All up to Shepard now, has to heal himself. Doing all we can though, emotionally involved. _Won't_ let him die." He sighed again and pushed past them heading into the crew quarters to rest.

"Messy, messy, messy." He muttered and just before the door shut behind him someone screamed out in pain.

xxx

"_**FUCK**__**!**_"

This, along with several other expletives, was the first sign anyone got that Commander Dante Shepard was once again conscious. The initial shout jolted the crewmembers present on the second deck to full alert, and succeeded in frightening Dr. Chakwas to the point of making her fall out of her chair. There were also several surprised echoes of this sentiment, most of them proceeded by the words "What the-".

Tali was the first one to react; moving so fast almost no one saw her, she entered the room and found him strapped down to prevent him from moving too much and reopening the wound. "Shepard!" He was struggling against the restraints and she gripped his wrists in her small hands trying to calm him down. "Shepard, you're wound isn't healed, you have to calm down!"

"What the hell's going on?" His eyes darted about looking around and getting his bearings. He turned his head this way and that looking everywhere before at last locking onto her. "Tali?" He asked, his struggles becoming left violent. "What-Wait-"

"Have to calm down, injuries not fully healed, could die if over exert yourself." Mordin answered suddenly on his other side, flanked by Garrus and Jacob.

In fact, by this time, almost everyone else had piled into the room, much to Dr. Chakwas's annoyance and indignation. "Everyone move! Get out of my way!" She snapped pushing through the small crowd to reach her. "All of you! Out! Out! _Out!_" They ignored her for the most part, and she turned to Shepard. "Dante, listen to me, you have to lie down."

"Wound delicate, don't have enough blood to repeat transfusions, need to rest." The salarian added before he could even formulate a reply. The proffesor reached for his IV and attached a small syringe he'd produced from his pocket. "Powerful sedative, will help you relax. Wake up healed; hopefully well enough to move."

Shepard looked around as the room fell to general noise and chaos as Mordin and Chakwas tried to shove everyone out of the medical bay and let him rest. Tali was the only one who stayed, lacing her hand with his and running the other through his hair. Already the sedative was working at his mind and he tried to fight it enough to talk. "Hey," He smiled, at least he _hoped_ he was smiling, his motor skills were already failing. "We win?" He asked, though it came out as "Ee in?"

She seemed to understand though and nodded her head. "Yeah. Yeah, we won Shepard." He could hear the smile and relief in her voice. Were he able he'd have hugged her.

Leaning back, he closed his eyes. "Go us."

That was when sleep claimed him.

xxx

Four days…Four days and he hadn't been allowed to awaken. His condition had improved with time, the small clots that would have formed complications around the wound were removed, the transfusions he needed went smoothly. Even still he remained under heavy sedation until the wound closed completely, both doctors keeping him under careful watch. The wound was deep, passing clean through him and leaving a nasty hole in its wake that would become an equally nasty scar.

And in these tour days Tali didn't leave his side. Mordin had attempted to ward her off from staying, telling her he'd be fine and that she needed to rest. She gave no reply, and continued to watch him. After several minutes of fruitless talking, the salarian went and retrieved Garrus and then Jacob, both of whom told her much of the same thing. That she needed to rest, and that sitting here was, all in all, useless. They too were ignored and she continued to sit, determined to be there first when he woke up.

Eventually, growing quite frustrated with the young woman's stubbornness, the three put their heads together and recruited Grunt to bodily lift the chair she'd planted herself in and remove it from the medical wing. The end result was the krogan nursing a rather nasty gunshot wound to his nose via the M-22 Eviscerator shotgun that was now clearly visible in her lap. And in that position she remained, one hand on the shotgun the other in his.

Three more tries and three more gunshot wounds later, Grunt gave up and went back to his tank telling them not to wake him up until his Battlemaster needed him.

After this failure, the three of them put their heads together again to come up with a new idea to get her out of there when Dr. Chakwas asked the pointed question of whether or not Tali was actually harming anything by sitting there. Mordin admitted sheepishly that, had no one tried to make such a fuss about it, Tali's presence could have gone altogether unnoticed and it was merely a regulations issue. Carolyn's response was to roll her eyes and tell them to leave her be.

And that was the end of that.

Throughout this Tali continued to sit and ignore them.

xxx

Hands wide and strange in shape lace themselves around her waist, sliding along the smooth skin of her back. Lips of fire run along her chilled skin, teeth gently nipping at the soft flesh, a dangerous but tender gesture. A sound unlike anything she'd ever heard escapes her throat, his touch driving her to the brink of madness. She can feel his heart beating in perfect harmony with her own. Time and place fade away as something utterly _primal_ roars within her soul.

Her fingers slide along a toned, warm body; examining, memorizing every ridge, every scar. His head removes itself from her throat, now raw in the wake of his gentle attack. She watches his head back away to regard her as she floats above him. Brown eyes tainted with the faintest hints of rubies watch her with such passion, such raw lust that she feels she will never escape them. She leans forward and claims his lips for her own, their tongues dancing together to the music of the drums that beat within their chest.

Well that was if said drums sounded like a nail flicking metal.

xxx

There was a clicking on her helmet. Rhythmic, as though someone was using it as a musical instrument. She stirred from her dream and moved her hand to swat whoever it was away and return to her nap. The noise stopped and she relaxed for a bit, almost falling back into the dream. And then, as though to mock her, it started again. This time in the form of a series of pokes between her shoulder blades. Again she swatted the offending hand away. "Leave me alone." She grumbled, though it came out as; "Lemme lone."

There was a light chuckle in her ear as unwelcome awareness flooded her being. A voice, deep and powerful rang in the air. "Whatever you say, Tali."

Suddenly, this awareness was all too welcome.

She sat up and stared at him, seeing the small smile on his face. His brown eyes regarded her with subtle amusement. "Welcome back to the land of the living." His tone was light, playful even, as though he'd woken from a nap and they were in his cabin, not in the medical bay with a still healing hope in his gut. She would never understand how he was able to be so casual even in the face, and aftermath of a crisis.

But right now what did it matter? He was here; alive if not so much well. She beamed at him behind her helmet and leaned over to hug him. It felt so good to feel the pressure of his arms against her suit. She jerked when he let out a small cry of discomfort, but he refused to allow her to pull away. "It's a good pain." He laughed squeezing her tighter.

"I was so scared…" She whispered into his shoulder. "I thought…I should have known…"

He chuckled, his voice a soft rumble in her ear. "You know me Tali," He pulled back to look her in the eye, his deep brown orbs meeting with her twin diamonds. "When I make a promise…"

Her eyes shined with joy and relief as she touched her helmet to his face. "You keep it." She whispered they embraced again and he nuzzled the thin plates of steel around her neck.

"Of course," That same smile that she fell in love with crossed his face. "it always helps that I'm indestructible."

"Bosh'tet…" She scowled playfully, and punched his chest. He let out a halfhearted and obviously very fake yelp of pain before falling into laughter. She watched him laughing and once again everything seemed to fall right back into place, once again everything seemed to be possible.

And as he beamed right back up at her they knew in some ineffable way that their thoughts were aligned as perfectly as their hearts.

_I love you._

xxx

**If you have time to read you have time to review. I worked hard on this so I'd like some feedback that's more than a few words long. I'm particularly worried that the ending seemed too rushed. What do you guys think?**

**Also, near the end there during Tali's dream, you saw me cross almost into lemon territory. I want your opinion; should I attempt a lemon in this collection? Or do you think it would take away from the overall quality of the collection? Be honest now. On my profile I have several examples of my lemons. Check under the titles "Icha Icha Memoirs" and "Lust Incarnate" for examples of my ability in that sort of thing. If you like the idea let me know.**

**And that's it I'm Ganja Naraku,**

**Keep kicking ass.**

**PS. If you enjoy my work you might also enjoy Andrio's "Tali's Selflessness" It a great peice, very emotional with excellent characterization. Andrio is a new guy on the site and I'd like to think you guys would help welcome him to our little peice of FF. So look it up! You won't be disappointed.**


	9. Perfection

_**Sexual content below.**_

**There, I've given the warning. So if you're underage and stay I'm not responsible for the consequences.**

xxx

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy lies, exploring the spectrum of the bliss she is in. In the infrared, she finds an inferno of warmth, his skin lighting her ablaze with the gentlest touch. Higher, in the visible spectrum, she discovers crimson scars lining his body, winking at her as she runs a delicate hand along them. A sigh escapes from her lips as she feels him squeeze her, binding her closer to him. And higher still is the ultraviolet love that brought her here, a love that delivered her into his embrace; the love of one whom she trusts with everything she is.

So this was what it felt like to have him at her side.

She lowered her head onto his chest, hearing the beat of his heart. It was a strong heart, every beat reminding her of a krogan battle drum. At first it had been a little strange; it beat at about half the speed of hers, but it was her favorite sound none the less. It reminded her that this was real, that it was really him that lay beneath her. His hand shifted on her back, sending goose bumps down her spine as he muttered something in his sleep. Keelah, if any moment could last forever…

Right now, she lay over top of him, his hands wrapped around her in a hug as he slept. It was so strange to have seen him like this; so calm and gentle with her. Letting her work out her fears in what became her first intimate experience. She'd grown so used to his wild antics, the way he was able to joke and laugh no matter how dire a situation he was in. But in seeing him tonight, she realized that Dante Shepard was one of the most complex people she had ever met.

He was best known for his flamboyant overconfidence and reckless abandon in battle. She'd witnessed him tease, mock, and downright provoke people regardless of size, shape, or rank. When she'd first met him, she'd attributed his startling lack of fear to either complete confidence or suicidal tendencies; sometimes both. And while she knew that he was not afraid to die, she realized that he never issued empty threats, when he said something was going to die, he meant it.

And at times it seemed his arrogance was not misplaced; as far as she was aware he'd yet to meet an enemy he could not defeat, from lowly mercenaries to the mighty Saren Arterius himself. Even Death itself seemed incapable of keeping him down forever. He was a very proud man and would never beg or show weakness to an opponent, no matter how tight of a spot he found himself in.

She remembered the way he'd chuckled over his earpiece when he was playing the role of live bait for Morinth. She'd just asked of him if he wanted her, was willing to do whatever she wished. "Is this a trick question, babe?" She could imagine the look on his face, that seductive smirk, the flash of his eyes as he mocked her. "If I say no, you'll try to wear my guts for garters; if I say yes, you'll eat me alive."

But being a trash talking attention whore did not constitute a personality. After getting to know him, she'd begun to suspect that his ironic smiles and theatrical antics were just props, protective masks to put his enemies on the defensive and himself at ease. She had come to realize that Dante was very much about protection: He would draw fire from his squad mates by taunting and generally pissing people off.

When they were looking for Mordin's lost apprentice, a krogan had pinned her and the doctor behind a small barrier and was advancing quickly. After he ignored Dante's attempts to get his attention, Shepard lunged for the krogan; latching onto his back and holding on for dear life as he bucked. This gave them the opening they needed to kill him and as he fell on his back from the downed krogan Shepard had laughed. "And that ladies and gents is how you wrangle a krogan."

And in his rare instances of sincerity, he strived to protect those he cared about at the cost of his own life; something that was proven beyond any doubt aboard the first Normandy. But for all the protection he tried to give to his crewmates he very rarely allowed any of them to get close. Everyone on board this ship knew him to be their eccentric and altogether very cocky Commander; even Garrus, who he counted as his best friend didn't seem to see the man behind the flippant smirk.

But now she knew that when you stripped away all the oppressive layers weighing down on his soul, you would find a fundamentally innocent, sweet, carefree, and perhaps even naive little boy who had been dragged through too much blood. He'd shown glimpses of this side by trusting people he shouldn't, giving second chances, staying loyal to those he cared about, and being nice to those that didn't give him a reason to be mean.

It would have been so easy for him to judge Sidonis as Garrus had, to let him take his revenge without question. But he gave the turian a chance to explain his actions; to give testimony to his reasons. There was a deeper logic for many of Dante's actions. And while few people would ever consider him quiet or thoughtful, they didn't know his true nature as she had come to.

"What are you thinking about?"

She glanced up, meeting a pair of hazel eyes as one of his hands stroked her cheek. His voice was strong, with the faintest ghost of grogginess. "I was thinking about how much I love you." She purred up at him.

He paused to regard her, his brown eyes shining with small rubies dancing just behind them.

Encouraged, she moved closer with an exaggerated slowness, letting him feel her skin against him. She could almost feel his muscles coil beneath his skin as she grew near and it thrilled her. His eyes darkened, face going blank with focus as she closed the distance between them and stared at him, mere inches away. Teasingly slow she tilted her head, lips hovering just out of reach of his jaw; only her hot breath touched him, and he coiled up even more.

"What are _you_ thinking, Dante?" She whispered in his ear.

"The same thing you are," His voice was low and coated in a growl that sent a wave of heat between her legs.

She inhaled a shaky breath, and nearly gasped when his hand found her waist curving around the slope of her ass. She looked into his eyes, now shining a bright, lustful crimson and murmured. "And what am I think—"

She was flipped and shoved up against the bed before she could finish her sentence. Shepard's warm body was pressed into her and his lips captured hers in a kiss so needful and urgent, she nearly died right then and there. Liquid fire flooded her and she moaned when their tongues met; She reached up to tangle her fingers in his short crew cut hair. Her other hand wrapped around his back, clutching him to her while he moved against her in a motion that made her pulse quicken.

_Yes. _This was the Dante she knew.

He pulled away from the kiss long enough to pull her bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling softly in contrast to the hand that wrenched her arm above her head and held it there. She gasped, writhing against the mattress as his other hand slipped between her legs, pressing against her with enough force to spread her opening but not enter further than his fingertips. She groaned, arching her back, trying to pull his head closer so their lips could touch again; but he was too strong and only smirked just of out range.

She growled at him and his eyes lit up. "That's a dangerous sound, Miss vas Normandy" He leaned in, grazing his teeth down her neck as she ground her hips against him. "I like it."

His tone made her wetter than she already was. With a frustrated sound, she shoved him back as hard as she could. He stumbled backwards a bit, but it was all she needed. She tackled him into the loveseat on the other side of the room, immediately straddling his lap. Her hands slipped around the back of his neck and she kissed him, deeply, drinking in his taste and smell. He groaned so quietly she barely heard, and it sent goose bumps across her flesh.

His hands slipped around the curve of her waist and up her back, caressing her, pressing her against him. She ground down into his lap, yearning for more contact. Suddenly he broke from the kiss and caught both her wrists, yanking them from his neck in a quick jerk of her wrists.

She squirmed, watching him; his eyes ran over her skin in a way that made her heart thump with anticipation. He leaned forward, holding her arms wide as his lips brushed up between her breasts, lingering on the soft curves. They continued upward, tracing her collar bone lightly before moving to her shoulder and down her arm. The softness of the touch was like fire, and she bit her lip, grinding against him.

His hand encircled her wrist a little tighter and pain shot up her arm. She was suddenly on her back, lying lengthwise across the couch with a smiling human on top of her. She writhed, groaning as he pinned both wrists above her head with one hand; his other cupped her breast as his lips met her own once again.

Keelah, she was certain that no woman had ever been kissed the way Dante kissed her. It was like she could feel him slip beneath her skin, pump through her veins like a drug that took her to an indescribable place. His scent filled her lungs; warmth and an exotic, smooth something that was uniquely Shepard. He felt so goddamn good she could barely stand it. She moved her hips against him in a long, sensual motion that left nothing to the imagination. She needed him inside her. _Now._

He smiled against her lips then, and she stilled as he pulled away to look down at her. She squirmed, tugging at her pinned wrists; his smile grew.

His index finger touched the hollow of her throat and slowly, agonizingly, traced down her flesh. She inhaled as he moved over the muscles of her abdomen, involuntarily arching her back into the contact. _Lower, lower,_ she begged in her mind. She bucked her hips into him and his finger brushed her ever so gently as he moved his hand from her to position the rod between her legs. She could feel the tip at her nether lips, its searing heat burning at her as he watched her eyes.

She hissed, jerking her arms in frustration. He was _teasing_ her! Why was he always teasing her like this?!

"Tell me what you want, Tali," He said, voice dipped in a sultry blend of arousal and eagerness that struck a chord in her like a finely tuned instrument, plucked and strummed beneath the touch of a virtuoso.

A small sound escaped her lips, and she ground her hips into him again, harder, more urgently.

"Tell me," He repeated, fingertip tracing the lines of her abs again. There was no harshness to his tone, no command; just a resigned patience that always seemed to be a pillar of Shepard's character. Before, it was endearing. Now, cloaked in the implications of the situation, it made her blood run hot and mind race as she realized just how long this could go on for.

"I don't want," She panted, licking her lips.

He tilted her head to the side, eyes sharp and curious in the darkness of the room.

"I _need_," She moved her hips against him again, craning her neck, wishing he was closer. "I _need_ you inside me," She murmured. "Fast. Rough. _Now_."

Absolute pleasure illuminated his face for a brief moment before that predatory expression surged to the surface. He released her hands and yanked her forward long enough to kiss her again before she was shoved back down across the couch. The leather was cool against her skin, and she inhaled sharply when he lay on top of her, wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, and stole the breath from her with another kiss. Then she felt his head dip into the wetness between her legs and she jerked, writhing against him, frantic with need.

He thrust deep inside her; she moaned loudly into him, and he consumed it eagerly, beginning a rhythm of thrusts while his thumb and index finger pinched rolled one of her nipples. She clutched at him, digging her fingers into his back, meeting his thrusts with her own. She broke away from the kiss; gasping for air, head tilted back in sheer bliss. Just when she'd caught her breath, his thrusting grew harder, faster. She raked her nails down his back; clawing at the skin and creating new scars, as his fingers caressed and curved in all the right places.

His lips moved down her neck to her shoulder, teeth and tongue sending paired sensations, adding to her heightened state. She gasped when his teeth clamped down in a gentle bite; she sensed the potential danger that Dante already knew was there, and he moved on.

A rough thrust changed the rhythm, and she arched her back, moaning through her shallow, panted breath.

His lips toyed with the lobe of her ear, sending puffs of hot air across the moist flesh that drove her absolutely insane with arousal. She could feel it building beneath her skin, seeping through her muscles, conquering her bones in its primal, ancient quest for completion. A sheen of sweat coated her skin. Her motions grew less and less controlled as Dante's fingers, lips, and thrusts drove her towards the climax she so desperately needed.

"You're close," He growled in her ear, the taunt in his voice ever present.

She groaned, sliding her hands down to grip his sides, grinding him into her harder. He nuzzled her cheek, and shifted his fingers along her back just so…She gasped, breath coming in rapid, erratic pants as orgasm neared. _So close, so close, just a few more—_

His rod pulled out halfway from inside her and Shepard stilled; brown eyes now black as the night sky and watching her.

A sound she'd never heard before crawled out from the depths of her soul as a snarl; it resonated, vibrating through her skin at the denial of what she needed. She bared her teeth at the human demon inches from her face; his grip on her keeping her head safely away.

His lips quirked into a most wicked smile, and his eyes glinted with a bright crimson light. "_That's_ what I wanted to hear," He murmured, and he thrust back inside her fast and hard enough to make the sound catch in her throat. She shuddered, motions frenzied as she thrust her hips into him, against the body he so masterfully led her with. Her vision lost its focus and she opened her mouth to moan.

Shepard yanked her head up and sunk his teeth into her shoulder.

Ecstasy ravaged her; a cry tore from her lips and her back arched sharply as she felt something spill into her. She clawed at his flesh, the leather of the couch, anything within reach as wave after wave of rapture pulsed through her body with each thump of her heart. She tasted blood but didn't care why. She was out of her mind and she felt… She felt…

Perfection…

Dante released the bite, licking, kissing, and nibbling his way to her ear. His breathing was just as deep as her own. "You are so amazing…"

A sob of bliss left her lips and she wrapped her arms around him, clutching him to her tightly. His thrusting continued, riding out the orgasm he'd drawn from the both of them. She was trembling, taking deep, gasping breaths that didn't seem to bring enough air.

Gradually his thrusting ceased and he pulled out of her, rolling onto his side. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, twitching, shuddering at every little touch.

"Shh," He soothed, gently caressing the curve of her spine as she tried to catch her mind. She inhaled his scent, trying to calm down. She couldn't remember ever feeling this amazing before. In fact, at the moment, she couldn't remember a goddamn thing. She was mush in his arms. She pulled back to look up into his eyes.

He smiled softly and bent down to kiss away the blood on her lip. Apparently she'd bitten it. She couldn't remember when.

She didn't know how long they stayed like that. She just remembered listening to the rhythm of Dante's heart beating beside her ear as he lifted and carried her back to their bed. She buried her face in his chest as he pulled the covers up around them. It was comforting. Her breathing had finally returned to almost normal and she sighed; a sound filled with contentment.

So this was what perfection was…

xxx

**Whew, this one gave me a little trouble. I just didn't know how to approach it without giving a detailed description of her appearance. I was going to do the initial scene but I couldn't make the suit removal seem realistic enough for my tastes, so I decided to go with round two and throw in a Dante Shepard character profile at the beginning.**

**Leave me plenty of reviews here. Did I pull it off tastefully? Was it what you expected, anything I could have made better?**

**Keep kicking ass,**

_**GN**_


	10. In Dedication

**Dedicated in whole to the lives lost during the tragedy of September 11, 2001.**

**As well as all those who's lives have been lost since.**

xxx

As soon as the message comes through, they're off. The pilot's fingers are a flurry as he moves the ship, reaching the relay in a fraction of the time it should have taken. EDI is even faster, plotting their destination just as he sends them through space faster than a blink. He's pushing the ship with everything it has, willing it to go ever faster.

They are the first on the scene.

And still they are already too late…

"Oh god…" Joker's jaw is slack; there is no smart comment, no witty remark. His eyes are wide as he looks upon what remains of what was once a human colony. They had just received word that a heavy cruiser had been hijacked and sent hurdling towards them.

_Some things are beyond words… _

The Commander and his team are the first to get planet side as Joker sends out a plea for aid on every channel. The Kodiak and Hammerhead open for their crew to see what remains and every one of them just _stops_.

_Some things are beyond comprehension…_

They are too late.

_Beyond forgiveness…_

xxx

Smoke continues to rise as Shepard steps from the Kodiak, his helmet hiding the sheer horror of what he is seeing. Survivors are running, carrying terrified children, unconscious loved ones in their race to escape the tidal wave of dust. Thinking he's with the Alliance one screams at him. "Where were you?!" She demands, tears streaming down her dirty cheeks as she runs past. He turns his head to follow her, guilt that none see on his face, as another yells. "How could you let this happen?!"

_How do you say we didn't know? We _couldn't_ know?_

"I-" But they are gone, consumed by the dust. He shakes it off and starts barking unneeded orders. Some might still be alive.

_We could never imagine_

Everyone moves in silence through the dust. He sees Jack's face; as cold and hateful as she was, even she cannot comprehend such lifts the rubble tossing it aside in search of survivors. She turns her head from the bodies, unable to look at them even after all she has seen.

_Only madmen could contain the thought, execute the act, and fly the ship._

A whimper escapes under her and she yelps out in surprise. He helps her shift through the rubble until a tiny, mangled blue hand has been found. Another soft cry of pain emerges and Jack becomes more frantic, steel and glass squeal as she tosses them aside, desperate to help the small soul trapped underneath.

_The sane will always be vulnerable to the hatreds of madmen, because we cannot go where they go to conceive of such things._

As last a tiny frightened face emerges from the rubble and the tattooed biotic cries out in relief as she lifts the little girl to safety. She holds the girl, her soft smile turning to broken sorrow when she sees her fall limp in her arms. He looks away as he hears Jack's scream, feeling the wave of biotic fury at the unfairness of it all.

_We could not see it coming._

He sees Thane within one of the smaller buildings; the assassin is carrying a young woman on his back and a boy in his arms. He whispers words that don't reach Shepard's ears as he brings them to Mordin and Carolyn. They are exhausted but they keep working, unable and unwilling to give up on a single one of them.

_We could not stop it._

He hears the rumble of a ship and looks to the sky to see aid arriving to Joker's signal. A strange relief fills him as he aids Garrus in moving some of the rubble.

_But we are here now._

xxx

_Even those we thought our enemies are here._

Zaeed grunts as he tries to lift a large piece of stone, certain that he heard the sound of a girl in pain. Before he knows it there is a man at his side, adorned in Eclipse armor. Together they lift the beam and allow a turian member of the Blue Suns to pull her to safety.

_Because some things surpass rivalries, borders, and even race._

Grunt places another child on the growing pile of bodies, and his finger moves across his face wiping the water from his eyes as he turns to continue the ever growing body count. The tank had nothing to describe what had happened here, this was no battle. There was no honor in attacking the defenseless.

_Things like the voice that speaks, even in the worst of us, and says **this is not right.**_

A hand on his shoulder draws his attention and he glances back into the face of his battlemaster. He has no words for this either, but his hand is one of understanding. Grunt nodded his head and followed him. There is still work to do. There are still bodies to be found.

_Because even the worst of us, no matter how scarred, still feel. Still mourn the deaths of random innocents._

xxx

_We are here._

_But with our talents and expertise and powers, we are writ small to the true heroes._

Samara raised her hands, lifting and moving a large chunk of debris and out of the corner of her eye she saw a small group of civilian police entering a half collapsed dwelling. She prays in silence for their safety as she continues her work.

_Those who face fire without fear or armor._

She continues helping the emergency personnel in any way they require and a few minutes later a rumble sounds behind her and she turns to watch, eyes wide, as the building collapses with those men still inside. Her biotics falter with her stone resolve and she shuts her eyes tight as their cries of pain reach her ears.

_We are nothing before those who step into the darkness with no assurances of ever walking out again. Because they know there are others waiting in the dark._

She releases her hold on the stone and walks towards the rubble. Perhaps some of them had survived; perhaps her prayers were not being ignored this day. Flicking both hands forward chunks of stone fly off into the distance she kneels before a body and moves on to the next, then the next.

_Awaiting salvation._

Only two of the officers have survived, three others perish as their bodies become shields for an infant asari who wails loudly as the justicar scoops her up and rocks her back and forth, speaking soft words and prayers to sooth her tears. She ignored the small tears streaming down her own face as she turns and delivers the child to Dr. Chakwas.

_Awaiting word._

As soon as Carolyn turns away there is another cry. This one of joy and relief as a turian rushes forward to claim his daughter. Both women watch in bittersweet happiness as the father holds the child, sobbing out his thanks and praise. Even within this tragedy there are tiny joys. The justicar looks away from the father, staring at the bodies that Grunt and others have piled together. She commits this to memory.

_Awaiting justice._

xxx

_But the most harmed are the least deserving._

"Hey." The child looks up at her, eyes dim and missing even the faintest spark that all children, no matter their race, should hold. She kneels down next to him and forces a smile he can't see behind her visor. "You shouldn't be here. This is no place-"

He cuts her off with a stiff shake of his head. "My-My dad went in there to get something." He points out a building not too far away, it has been heavily damaged by the debris and she can't help but doubt that anything made it out alive.

"Listen…" She puts a three fingered hand on his shoulder. He's trembling and on the verge of tears.

"and if-if I wait and stay and don't leave, he'll be okay." Tali closed her eyes and wrapped him in a small hug as the boy went on, his voice breaking into small sobs. "Because I'll be good and do what he told me and-" He looks away as his eyes widen and she follows his gaze. Garrus and some humans are pulling a body from the wreckage.

_There are no words…_

"Daddy!"

_There are no words._

xxx

He turns his head and sees Tali holding onto the boy, binding him to her chest as he screams. He looks away again as the boy collapses into her and sobs as the young woman holding him begins to break down as well. Rage compounded onto rage fills him and he hates it all. He can't hurt the ones responsible no matter how much he wants to. He hates his helplessness.

_The death of innocents and the death of innocence._

xxx

"Is it going to happen again?" A little girl asked of him as he tended to her wounds. The professor gives no answer; he doesn't have the necessary data, and even if he did he couldn't be sure. So many ask the same questions; why? Why? And he can't answer. He can't give them a reason, can't tell them if things will ever get better…

_But to my shame, I have no answers._

xxx

_He's the only one who could have an answer._

Miranda glances over to Dante as he stares out at the madness that has befallen this place, his face is set in stone, but she can see the anguish and rage behind his eyes.

_Because he's been here before._

She knows of his past on Mindoir. The slavers that slaughtered all he knew. She wished she hadn't lived to see this once. She can't even begin to imagine what it is to see this twice.

_No one could imagine…_

xxx

_What do we tell the children?_

He looks over at Tali as she continues to soothe the child, both of them shaking with their grief.

_Do we tell them evil has a foreign face?_

He looks out at volunteers. Turians, salarians, drell, asari, even batarians from the Blue Suns offer their aid.

_No. The evil is the thought behind the face and it can look just like yours._

Miranda hands him a datapad and he looks down at it.

_Do we tell them that evil is tangible? With defined borders and names and geometries and destinies?_

Batarian slavers are taking responsibility for the attack; Cerberus has begun the hunt and will update them as new data becomes available.

_No. They will have nightmares enough._

He looks out at those who came here to aid perfect strangers.

_Perhaps we tell them that we are sorry. Sorry that we were not able to deliver unto them the world we wished them to have. That our eagerness to shout is not the equal of our willingness to listen. That the burdens of distant people are the responsibility of all men and women regardless of race or allegiance, for if they are not then their burdens shall become our tragedies._

He looks up from the data as she approaches him, his entire body sagging under the weight of what has happened here. He reaches out to hold her and she wraps her arms around his neck. She closes his eyes as he listens to her empathetic sobs.

xxx

_We could not see it coming._

_No one could._

_But you wanted to send a message, and in so doing you woke up the dragon._

_Message received._

_Look for your reply in the thunder._

_We have endured before and we will do so now._

_You have not weakened us._

_You have made us stronger than you can possibly imagine._

xxx

**We have not forgotten.**


	11. A Love Story

I've got plenty of fresh ideas now, guys. So the next few updates shouldn't take too long.

xxx

Prologues.

A crack of thunder is the first warning she receives that she is not alone. The turian who had her in a head lock crumples to the ground allowing her to duck and move away. His salarian accomplices have little time to react as they are caught within a powerful field of blue light and sent hurling towards the path behind her.

She follows them with her eyes, staring at three figures. The foremost is a krogan, scarred and adorned in dark crimson armor. He is wielding a shotgun which he uses to blast the two salarians back over to the opposite wall. Behind him is a turian adorned in blue C-Sec armor, his left eye glowing blue with a scouter and his right hidden in the scope of his rifle. He sweeps the area looking for other hostiles before lowering his weapon.

"All clear Commander." He reports as the krogan turns to look at the last figure. He is a dark clad human with a red stripe going down his right arm, He holsters his pistol as the blue glow fades from his body. His crimson eyes meet her evenly as he comes toward her. She readies another mine and prepares to run.

And then he smiles and holds out his hand in both greeting and to assist her in standing. "You alright miss?"

In that instant she senses he is not like most people.

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Beginnings.

His eyebrow raises as she pleads her case, those bright crimson eyes regarding her as they always do. This data would be invaluable to her people and was in all probability a one of a kind piece of intel. He asks if her people could use this data to destroy the geth and retake her home planet. She hesitates for an instant, knowing his thoughts on the conflict and his unwavering belief that both sides were in the wrong.

Yet she doesn't dare lie to him. He has been good to her, treated her as he would a member of his own family. Even if he won't give her this data she will not break that trust. His eyes darken for a moment as she admits that yes, they would use this to destroy the geth. Before she is even finished explaining, he turns to look out at the drive core. "Tali, if I give you this I'd be breaking about fifteen different alliance laws."

Her eyes fall to the floor in defeat. She understands why he can't do it, of course, but it doesn't make it hurt any less.

"Thankfully though," Her head snaps up and sees that same lunatic smirk on his face, the same mischievous twinkling in his eye as he continues. "I'm a Specter and rules have never been much of a big deal for me." He nods his head. "Go on and make a copy Tali."

She stares at him in disbelief. "I-But you said-The Alliance."

"What are they gonna do? Scold me?" He laughs. "You're a valuable member of my crew, Tali and after everything you've done to help us, if the _least_ I can do is give you a little bit of data. Well, why not?"

She tries to make her mouth work. Tries to thank him, to let him know how much this means to her people, to her. But before she can even start he's off, called by Joker to say their approaching Virmire. "Show time people!" He shouts to the lower deck as he leaves. "Let's go find us some salarians."

She can't help but smile.

He definitely isn't like most people.

xxx

Middles.

She tries to tell him that this can't work. They are too different from one another and he deserves so much better. "You deserve to be happy with someone. I can't do that. No matter how much I-I could get sick or jeopardize the mission."

His hazel eyes flash the same way they did when she asked him for that data. He asks her what if there was no mission and once gain she cannot bring herself to lie. She wants to. She wants to save him from the trouble he's about to get into if he continues on this chain of thought. But again she tells the truth; tells him of her admiration of his will, his strength and his courage. That if there was nothing else in the way she would love nothing more than to be with him.

Almost before she's done speaking his smirk has returned. He takes her hands in his and tells her that he doesn't _want_ anyone else. He wants her and only her.

She tries to hide the tears in her eyes as she thanks him, once more unable to voice how much what he has done means to her.

xxx

Endings.

She is rambling like an idiot. Trying to make him see and understand.

"It's okay." He murmurs as he takes her in his arms, her suit's nerve stimulation program allowing her to feel the ghost of his caress. She wants to tell him how much she loves him and ever still the words elude her. They move to the end of his bed, their eyes never leaving one another. Again she starts rambling and she can almost feel him resisting the urge to laugh.

He hand reaches up to her mask and she guides him to the pressure point. His other hand rises to mimic its twin.

_This is it._ She thinks as her eyes close and she feels the rush of warm air hiss into her lungs. She keeps her eyes shut until she feels his thumb on her cheek. It feels like he's on fire. She opens her eyes to look t him unobstructed for the first time. She doesn't see any disgust or horror and judges this to be a good sign.

The growing smile on his face only serves to heighten this opinion.

As she leans forward and kisses him she realizes at last.

Words are useless.

xxx

Epilogues.

"We did it." She smiles as they sit in the bar watching the rest of the crew celebrate. He'd been planning this for weeks, a week long shore leave on the Citadel, fully paid for by funds Shepard had requisitioned from Cerberus. The only thing that made if funnier was that they had all but severed ties with the shadowy organization.

"No need to sound so surprised." He chuckles, sipping a glass of turian wine. "Or did you miss the part where I'm awesome?"

She rolls her eyes. "Right, of course. How could we fail with an utter lunatic leading us."

His face became aghast as though she'd just insulted him greatly. "Tali, you wound me."

She smirks at him putting a hand on his chest. "I've considered doing far worse, believe me."

His face shifts back to its natural smile as he pulls her closer. "Hmm, well perhaps that warrants further consideration." He moves to stand and brings her with him. She can see Garrus smirking out of the corner of her eye but allows him to lead her back to the ship.

Thankfully, Mordin was ever willing to supply the necessary preparations.

xxx

Review, or I'll start posting names.

GN


	12. Super Awesome OneShot Collection 2

**T=20, A=1, L=12, I=9.**

**20+1+12+9=42**

**TALI=THE MEANING OF LIFE.**

xxx

Quick on the Draw.

xxx

It happened in the blink of an eye.

They had been heading over to the vehicle the Scout Commander had provided them. The varren had growled and snapped at them as they passed and she had jumped when the thing had gotten near her leg before being yanked back by its owner. Shepard in turn glanced back at her before directing a stern look to the arrogant krogan who sneered, "One wrong move, Shepard."

This time however, as they passed after speaking with the mechanic the varren got loose from its master and leaped for her, jaws open. She had barely even shrieked before it was engulfed in blue biotic power and tossed back it its master with enough force to send them both skidding to the ground. She turned and saw Shepard moving, the afterglow of his biotics still visible as he planted his boot on the throat of the downed krogan and aimed the M-5 Phalanx pistol in his hand. Urz wasn't far behind and placed the rogue varren's neck between his powerful jaws.

"Now that I have your undivided attention, let me make myself perfectly clear to you." His eye flashed to Urz who tightened its jaws around the shaking varren. "The next time that mongrel so much as growls at one of my crew I will put a bullet in its head." The krogan grunted and glared up at the human who pinned him down.

Shepard, in turn, lifted his boot and slammed it down again eliciting a shout of pain from his victim. "And the next time I catch you _releasing_ your mongrel to attack one of my crew I'll rip off your brow plate, put a few tungsten rounds in your skull, and let Urz here dine on what's left." He twisted his boot, and she could see the crimson glow from just behind his hazel eyes as he asked. "Do I make myself clear to you?"

The krogan growled in what she saw was weak defiance and in response Shepard fired off a round not an inch away from the handler's head. The krogan flinched and snarled a bit. "Okay! Okay! You win human."

"Good boy." He smirked, revealing for an instant the sadist that was always resting just beneath the surface of his normally gentle nature. He nodded to Urz who whined pitifully before doing as he was told. Shepard stepped off the krogan, allowing him to rub his neck before delivering a harsh punt to his skull making him shout and grunt and swear in pain.

He glanced to his left, noting the Urdnot warriors who had gathered to observe the situation. "There a problem here?" He growled, daring any of them to challenge him. She noted Grunt casually reaching back for his shotgun but to her relief the warriors shook their heads in the negative as they dispersed.

Shepard sighed and cracked his neck as he holstered his pistol and glanced back at them. There was an uncanny grin on his face and all of the anger from a few seconds ago seemed to have vanished. He nodded his head for them to follow and headed off for the leaving her to stare and Grunt to chuckle to himself.

"You chose well Quarian." He grunted lumbering past her. "Not every human who'd be that quick on the draw for his mate."

xxx

Weak.

xxx

"Why do you keep her around Shepard?" Grunt rumbled as the two of them went about modifying their weapons. Jacob was on a sleep cycle at the moment leaving the two alone in silence to apply the new upgrades Mordin had invested in.

Shepard raised a questioning eyebrow at his krogan protégé as he re-sighted the sniper rifle in his hands. "Keep who around?" he questioned looking through the sight and recalibrating it.

"The quarian." Grunt grunted locking in the new shotgun barrel into place. "She's soft. Weak. One shot gets through that suit and she's dead weight." He snorted as his battlemaster frowned and directed a sideways glance to the young krogan. "Why do you want her on your team?"

Shepard furrowed his brow. He knew his personal reason well enough. He cared deeply for Tali as a friend and more, and even if he didn't she was an absolutely brilliant technician. Give her some scrap metal, a wrench, and a bit of Element Zero and she could make it do the twist and a triple spin. However Grunt, being a young krogan wouldn't be interested in that. He was interested in fighting abilities and truthfully quarians would not be his first pick to be teamed with in a fire fight.

A thought breached his mind and he smiled, reaching over to pick up an old Carnifex hand cannon and tossing it to Grunt. "You've got an excellent point there Grunt. In a straight fight, a quarian probably wouldn't last near as long as a turian, krogan or even a salarian. Their immune systems are a big risk in any combat situation, and one bad shot can down them easily enough." He wiped down the barrel of his rifle and checked the balance in his hands.

"But let me ask you something; can you hack a door so that it'll come down and crush any enemy that walks through it? Can you, with a few taps of an omnitool, refuel your shields by stealing the energy of your enemy?" Grunt furrowed his brow, looking down at his weapon as Shepard folded his gun. "With her on the team, our enemies not only has to fight us physically but mentally as well."

Grunt was quiet for a moment then snorted. "So by having her on the team, you're making your enemy fight two wars?"

"Exactly. And as I'm sure the tank imprinted to you, you can't fight a war on two fronts." He checked the sight on one of his assault rifles and nodded his head absentmindedly. "Tali is an absolute genius Grunt. I've seen her do things with an omnitool that would blow your mind. Don't discount her just because she can't take as many bullets as you can."

Grunt nodded his head, satisfied. "Wise, Shepard."

xxx

I say insane.

xxx

"I just don't understand it Shepard." Tali frowned watching him wince as Dr. Chakwas went about sewing up a fresh cut on his back. "Why won't you let her numb it first?"

"It helps me remem-Ah!" He yelped but somehow kept from jerking away. "Helps me remember my mistakes." He winced again as the aging doctor pulled the thread taught.

"Then one would believe you would be quite knowledgeable." The doctor grumbled, cutting the thread and stepping back to stare at his back. Most of it was covered in scars, fresh and old. She was beginning to think it wasn't carelessness on his part. He seemed to walk away from every fight with a new scar, several if he was enjoying himself half as much as he seemed to. "Do try to be more careful Dante. You'll be falling apart at the seams if you keep this up."

Shepard waved her off as he laid down on his side. He put his head on his hand regarding Tali and smirked. "Besides, I thought you liked my scars."

"I don't like seeing you hurt though." She frowned behind her mask as he laughed again. "You're so reckless sometimes."

"You say reckless, I say adventurous."

"I say insane." She retorted crossing her arms in disapproval.

He laughed. "Good thing too or we'd never get anything done."

xxx

It's called…

xxx

The door opened and she was greeted with the sound of very powerful and very loud music the likes of which she had never heard before. She was actually forced to stop and listen to it, incapable of breaking her attention from the sound. It was hard and heavy like the hull of a dreadnought. It had the power of a charging krogan, the fire of a sun going supernova, the speed of the Normandy when it made a jump to FTL speeds, and the mighty roar of a thresher maw.

But at the same time as she listened to it, the chaos of the sound had a strange beauty to it and was almost…sad in its own way. The words of the song told the story of a fierce and noble age of humanity, long before they had even begun entering space. It seemed like a collision of artistic passion, invention, and sonic overlord.

She wondered how it was that she had never heard music like this before.

She heard Shepard say something, but she couldn't understand it over the music. He was sitting at his desk reading over some files and stood waving his omnitool to lower the volume. "Sorry. I didn't hear you come in."

"I-" She blinked several times trying to remember the reason she'd come up here in the first place. "What kind of music is this?"

Dante flashed her a most wicked grin as he guided her to his couch and sat them both down. "You like it?"

"It's…Interesting." She admitted as he turned it up a few notches. The song had changed, becoming slower and with a greater touch of mourning. "I've never heard anything like it."

"I'm not surprised." He wrapped his arms around her waist as she leaned back into him, listening to the music as it filled her ears. "This music is _old_ Tali. Old old; It's been about two hundred years since this music has been mainstreamed." He sighed. "A lot of people have forgotten about it."

She closed her eyes listening to the words of this new song. They told the tale of two lovers separated by a distance and yet loving one another through it all. She drew the obvious parallel with her own relationship with Shepard and felt a comforting smile cross her face. "What is this kind of music called?"

His eyes lit up as his smirk widened. "It's called…"

"Heavy Metal."

xxx

Heaven and Hell.

xxx

Heaven is supposed to be a place of bliss while Hell in unending torment. They are two completely opposite concepts that couldn't possibly be in the same place at the exact same time. And yet as Dante Shepard sat on his sofa with his girlfriend Tali on his arm he discovered that he was indeed trapped in both heaven and hell.

It was heaven in that Tali had fallen asleep with her head resting on his shoulder. Through her mask he could hear her snoring, a sound that to his ear sounded absolutely adorable much like the woman herself and it always brought a smile to his face as he watched her resting.

However, as nice as having her resting and making such an adorable sound was, about the same time she fell asleep so his right arm. It was tingling and numb as though he had hit his funny bone and under any other circumstances he would have moved and flicked it about to get the feeling back into it. But were he to do so now it would invariably wake Tali who was exhausted after going with him to clear out some Blood Pack mercenaries.

This left him in a dilemma. Either he could endure the torment as the tingling in his arm got worse and worse, or he could wake her up and deprive her of her dreams. He chewed his lip as he looked from his hand, which he was flexing rapidly to try and ward off the sensation from entering his fingers, to Tali who seemed both completely oblivious to the hell he was in a she unconsciously snuggled closer to him.

And then she sighed contently in her sleep and muttered something his translator failed to pick up. He placed his face in his free hand and sighed, knowing exactly what he would have to choose to do because he just didn't have the heart to wake her now when she looked so peaceful.

It was going to be a long night…

xxx

**Yes, I am aware this is late in coming. But my computer crashed and I lost almost everything.**

**From now on though I'll make no more promises on updates for anything.**

_**GN**_


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